


Faecraft

by Lynn_Nexus



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bad Decisions, Cheating, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Knifeplay, Negging, Potionless - Freeform, Roland (Strange Magic) Being an Asshole, Scars, Self-Harm, Sexual Assault, Threats of Violence, Violence, seriously this shit gets bad, territorial pissing contests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:05:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynn_Nexus/pseuds/Lynn_Nexus
Summary: Marianne just found out her favorite MMO (that she thought was dead) is still up and running.  Her best friend (who she's never actually met) still plays!Everything is looking fantastic in her life.  She has her best friend back, her favorite game back, a lovely fiance and she's starting her freshman year of college.Only thing is, her Fiance's room mate is a jerk to her, and her fiance is pushy, but it's ok, right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again folks!! Saw LiteraryLady's "Love to Hate You" 
> 
> And then I went another way. T_T This has only the basest of inspiration from her work but lemme know if you think I should put that tag up, with how dark this gets in the middle I'm not sure I wanna link it to other people's work...
> 
> Gotta love how I see fairly sweet stories and get ideas for... well shit like this... from them. You're just getting the very tip of the angst iceberg in this chapter... I promise eventual happy endings and smuttyness... Swears...

College, Marianne was _finally_ going to be able to go to college with her boyfriend. It'd only been a year but even that was too long. Her boyfriend Roland was beautiful, he wasn't handsome he was _beautiful_. Marianne frequently wondered how she had gotten so lucky. She wasn't that popular in high school, sure she was smart and fairly good looking but she spent a fair chunk of time in the weight room when she wasn't practicing or studying. Roland on the other hand was the star quarter back, he may not have been smart but he was hot and every chick wanted to be on his arm. She wasn't even a cheerleader! Roland frequently told her how lucky she was to have caught him and she agreed with him. After all, she was a tom boy, a band geek, and enjoyed her fair share of nerd culture. All things that made her different and if high school had taught her anything, different was bad.

Her dad and sister had helped her move in the day before and her room mate was due to join her today. The dorm she was in was a co-ed and it used to be an apartment building so you didn't even have to deal with communal showers or kitchens. It was a bit more expensive but it was still heads and tails cheaper than living in an actual apartment. There was a knock and she blinked, Roland was at practice and she expected that her room mate would just unlock it herself. She quickly dashed to the door to see who it was, a small, slightly round girl stood with big round glasses and an armload of boxes. Marianne blinked again. “Hi! Ellen?” She questioned opening the door wider in case it was her new room mate. “Um... Elanor. Elanor Fliege.” Marianne quickly took some of her boxes and helped her get them in. “Marianne right?” The confirmation was easy. “That's me. Marianne Summers.” Elanor nodded to the empty bed. “Since we're rooming together I'd like to start with some ground rules.” Marianne grinned at the very business like manner the smaller woman had. “I grew up with nothing but brothers... So I'm hoping that you'll be more reasonable than they were.” Marianne flopped on her bed and scooted to lean against the wall while Elanor unpacked her boxes. 

“I'll certainly try. And there are a few things that I'd like too.” Elanor nodded as she snapped a sheet out over the twin sized bed. “Of course. First on my end... My preferred nickname is not Ellen. It's Nora.” Marianne raised her eyebrows at that and started to apologize but was cut off. “It's fine, everyone starts with Ellen. I'm not mad. But I'd prefer if you remember it from here out.” Marianne was finally able to get a good look at the small woman and smiled. She was slightly darker, a sweet, clear caramel skin, big, dark eyes behind her large round glasses. She had a short upturned nose and medium length straight dark hair. “Fliege... is that German?” Marianne asked suddenly and Nora cocked her head slightly, smiling a small surprised smile. “Yes. It is. Do you have a preferred nickname Marianne?” There was a shrug in response. “Not Anne? My sister calls me “Mari” sometimes but I usually go by my full name.” Nora nodded turning back to the task of hanging her clothes. Marianne noticed a rather interesting range of clothes. She wore a lot of jeans and teeshirts but there were some full skirts and flirty tops in there too. A lot of black and gray, with hints of purple.

“Next. We seem to be close to the same size. If you want to borrow some of my clothes, ask first, every time. Before pawing through my clothes. I will extend the same grace to you.” A grin spread across Marianne's face with a nod. “Then you're already better than my sister.” Nora groaned at the thought. “My brothers would steal my teeshirts... The younger 2 that is. I had to get mom to help me stop my older brothers from snitching back the tees she'd handed down to me...” Marianne leaned forward and rested her arms on her knees. “You mean you had to deal with _brothers_ stealing your clothes?!” Nora nodded with a sigh. “Never would think that doing laundry would be a privilege, but in my house it was. Because then you could be the one who sorted and make sure you got your clothes first. We would _fight_ over who got to do laundry. On that note. I'm a tidy person. We will have issues if you're a mess.” Marianne gave her a half grimace. “I'm not particularly tidy but... so long as you just... Remind me? Until it becomes a habit?” Nora nodded decisively. “Of course. I have 5 brothers. I'm used to reminding people. Take turns with dishes?” Marianne laughed. “My sister and I did a “I cook you clean” sorta thing... being there is only two of us...” Nora contemplated that for a moment then nodded. “I don't like cooking but I don't _mind_ dishes. Works for me. Last major thing for me. I don't know if you have a significant other...” Marianne quickly shifted and said “boyfriend” quietly then allowed Nora to continue. “Regardless. I do not want to walk in on you and yours neck deep in each other.” 

Marianne blushed at the thought, she and Roland... Well she was trying to wait for marriage. “Ok... but...” Marianne was starting to say “but can't we kiss in my room?” but Nora cut her off. “I'm not saying you can't. I'm saying I don't wanna walk in on the beast with two backs. Oh and _do not ever do anything on my bed_. My brothers had a fairly good system. Just the old, sock on the handle system but... it worked if paired with some respect for others. I made a door hanger for my room that is... well a bit more discreet.” She pulled out a door hanger and showed Marianne, with a simple but rather artistic “do not enter” on one side and “safe” on the other. 

“Did you... You made that yourself? That's kinda awesome!” Nora handed it to Marianne to look at and she marveled at the artful scrawl and delicate designs. It was burned into wood and stained with colored stains then varnished. “It's several years old. I've improved since then.” Marianne made a noise at that, she'd really like to see some of Nora's newer stuff if this was years old. “So long as you remember that we have to live together, and treat me with respect I'm open to being flexible with future rules.” Marianne stood, hanging the door hanger so it read “safe” and then held her hand out to the shorter woman. “Sounds great. I don't have anything I really need to make rules on... not after those. I'm a bit of an early bird, and I've got a computer set up out in the living room. Please don't mess with it? Without asking at least...” Nora nodded amiably. “Of course. I've got a laptop that I'm quite protective of. I'm a bit of a night owl but I endeavor to be quiet. Oh! Tonight I have a raid.” Marianne cocked her head at the other girl, curious.

“I play some video games... MMO's.” She gestured to try and express herself but Marianne just smiled and sat back on her bed, pulling her favorite pillow to her belly. “Oh? I used to play... years ago. It was cool but...” Nora shrugged and broke her boxes down, the aforementioned laptop on the bed now. “I play with my clan on a Fae based game. Faecraft.” Marianne blinked and sat up a bit straighter. “Faecraft is still around? I thought it went under a few years ago...” Nora grinned, really grinned and her thin nose tipped up with the motion. “You played? It was going to, it actually did for a while but the online outcry... They sold the servers and rights to some of the fans who set it up and run it on donations now.” Marianne was nearly vibrating with joy. “I used to play! You don't think my characters or account survived do you?!” Nora nodded emphatically. “I don't see any reason it shouldn't be. What faction were you?” Marianne ducked her head and smiled. “I was a fairy.” Nora nodded and seemed to be waiting for more information but when there was only silence she seemed to realize something. “OH! You don't know cus you quit before everything went down...”

The next hour was spent informing Marianne of the updates to the game since it had been taken over by the fans and a few of the developers who'd been sacked at the same time. Then the hour after was spent getting Marianne back onto the game. “Oh man... I hope Bog still plays!” Marianne giggled to herself as she logged into the server with Nora standing behind her shoulder. “He might, did you lose contact with him or something?” Marianne shrugged. “Kinda? He got a girlfriend and I got a boyfriend so we message occasionally but he got quiet... and I was busy.” Nora cocked her head and leaned over Mariannes shoulder. “Wait... Bog? As in... TheBogKing?” Marianne flipped her head to face Nora. “What? Yea! Do you know him?” Nora laughed heartily, a much deeper thing than one would expect from her rather small frame. “He's my guild's leader!” Marianne gasped. “Bog wasn't the leader of his guild when I knew him!” Nora nodded and grinned. “Yea, he took over when the old guild leader left.” Marianne squirmed in her chair as the update downloaded. “I was never able to be in a guild with Bog because he was a Goblin. I could join his guild now!” Nora patted her shoulder and pulled out her laptop, seeing the main page pop up the smaller thing pulled her laptop onto her lap and fired the game up too. “I never understood why your entire account was bound to a faction. That was always bullshit. Will you make a new character or just join on your fairy?” Marianne giggled and pulled up the new character screen. “Maybe I can surprise Bog...”

The new friends got Mariannes new Goblin through the tutorial after she was done with the character creator. “You use a mic?” Marianne nodded. “Yea, do you need to go in the other room so we don't echo?” Nora shook her head. “No, I just was curious. My mic is pretty good at only getting the closest sounds... used to play with my littlest brother and got a damn good one.” Suddenly over the headset a voice joined them that made Marianne nearly squeal. “Nora! Yer on early. An ya brought new meat? They gotta mic?” It'd been entirely too long since she'd heard Bog's voice. His slight accent felt like a warm arm wrapped around her. She almost couldn't speak, even though Nora had no such issue. 

“Ah... my liege...” Nora purred, a sound that was entertainingly nasal. “My room mate, she used to play... Introduce yourself...” Nora encouraged, the pair of them watching each others faces excitedly, waiting for the reveal. “Bog.” She always spoke in that, I am so confident, I will eat your heart voice on the headset. “It's good to be back.” Nora had muted herself and was snickering at the snooty face that Marianne put on. There was a gasp on the other side of the line and she shivered at him recognizing her. “Tough girl? Princess?!?!” He lost a bit of his cool demeanor and spoke with a thick accent suddenly. “Yer fukin wit meh!” The excitable and happy voice made her smile. “You didn't tell me they got the servers back up! I aught to be really angry with you Sir!” She tried to sound stern but there was a giggle in her voice and he sounded like he was laughing gleefully but his accent got back under control shortly. “M'sorry Prin! Thought ye were busy with that boyfriend a yers... Figured you were done...” 

“Yea well... I'm back now that I know it's still going. And I hear I can join your guild! Even with my fairy?!” She could all but hear him nod. She always had imagined him as some small redheaded guy. Maybe a bit round in the belly and weak in the arms. She'd never seen Bog, didn't know his real name, but they'd talked forever. They had been best friends for a while, for a long while. She hadn't really noticed the loss of him but now she could feel the gap he left in her life. “Yea, ya can! I kin send ya an invite right now...” She got off her new character and got on SummerPrincess. It wasn't the most interesting name but she was happy with how the character looked and she'd put days of hours into that character. It felt good to get back into the game. Nora had to leave for a while and she stayed in the group with him, chatting. 

“S' hows that boyfriend a yers?” Marianne sighed happily. “Great. I think he's gonna ask me to marry him soon... He's so sweet.” Bog made a groan noise on his end. “M'glad things er workin out fer one a us.” Marianne made a soft sound of sympathy. “Know how I was with that girl? Yea not s'much. She's datin muh room mate now. Charmin’ arse at ‘e is.” He sighed angrily and she made another noise of sympathy. “I'm so sorry Bog... Your roomie sounds like a real asshole.” He immediately made a noise of agreement. “Oh aye. Man's got so many pots in the fire it's no wonder a few of um boil over. But I don't have ta talk ta him. He moved his bed to the living room an put up a divider.” Marianne made a horrified noise but Bog dismissed it. “The living room gits used as a bedroom in a buncha tha dorms. Heard you were in a dorm with Nora... She's a good kid.” Marianne scoffed. “She and I are the same age.” He snorted in response. “An yer a good kid too. I dunt wanna make this weird but... I missed ya Tough Girl...” She laughed softly at him. “It's ok man... I missed you too. Buuut I'll have to talk to you later though. I just moved in yesterday and my boyfriend is gonna take me out.” There was a short silence as she logged out of her character. “Wull... Were luvly talkin to ya agin. I'll message ya later.” She hummed her approval. “Great! Later!” 

~~

Bogart Stroud kicked back in his bed, headset still on. Talking with SummerPrincess brought back a flood of good memories. Memories of off site role playing and a good solid year of friendship that had been in a younger, more innocent time of his life. They'd met in a player verses player server and she'd been damn good. He won but he messaged her, not knowing at the time she was even actually a woman, congratulating her on some amazing tactics. Her response had been less than kind, she apparently expected the compliment to be sarcastic and chewed him a new asshole. The ensuing argument ended when she apologized profusely for losing her temper and he apologized for being an ass instead of clarifying. They pitted their characters against each other after that, having a friendly rivalry for a long time. One day she'd come to him and told him that there was a questing server that they could play on and not have to fight each other, which at the time was a new thing. Soon enough they'd managed to get on a third party voice chat client and he'd heard her voice for the first time. He'd never admit it to her, but he fell for her voice. 

The pair had followed each other around online for a while. When the news of Faecraft dieing hit the pair were both in new relationships and they tried, really tried for a while to still hang out but neither had the time to spend and daily conversations turned to weekly, turned to monthly. He had to admit, some of that was his fault. When he found out that the girl he thought he was dating wasn't actually dating him, he'd been crushed. He tried to give her a good night kiss and she screamed and slapped him. He cut himself off from everything for a good two months until his mother had drug him out of his funk. A trip to Scotland to visit with relatives had managed to break him out of the worst of his melancholy, though some of it always trailed behind him. Hearing her voice brought back all the forgotten emotions he had for her. She was amazing, tough as nails, compassionate, smart. And she played video games! Only problem was she had a boyfriend. Sure he knew he never had a chance in the first place, but if she didn't have a boyfriend maybe he could pretend that he had a chance.

God had he missed her. Like a _limb_ he'd missed her. His scarred and blackened heart gave a little thump like it woke up from it's long coma. She didn't know he lived in the states. They'd both avoided telling the other personal details, and he told her he was “from” Scotland which was true but never told her he wasn't living there. She didn't know that she called him by his real name, and he had no idea what her real name was. It was better that way really, that way he didn't try to find her, or try to date her or do other stupid things. 

Like tell her he loved her. 

He'd made that mistake before and he wasn't about to do it again. Especially when he saw the girl he thought he was dating almost daily when she came over to get plowed in his living room. He had no idea how she could have fallen for the douche canoe that he roomed with but she and many, many others either didn't care that they were one of many, or somehow didn't know. Susan was one of the ones who didn't care. The woman who'd slapped him for trying to kiss her, didn't care that her boyfriend was banging several other women. The worst was when he overheard Roland telling Susan of his other conquests and she'd giggled happily. He had been heading to the kitchen and turned tail immediately and found refuge in a friends room.

He really, really needed to get a different room mate, but he just couldn't be asked to go and raise enough of a fuss to get a swap. He'd just hate himself and the world. He sighed and took the headset off, setting his computer down and looking at his room. God what would she do if she knew? If she knew there was a knife in his bedside table? That it had his blood on it? He'd used it far too many times recently, this last year his ability to cope had been rather abysmal. Were it not for his online buddies he wasn't sure if he'd have been able to make it. Some of them were in this very building, “Stuff” a round, grumpy woman named Stephanie and “Thang” a willowy guy named Theodore, lived in this building too. He was allowed in their rooms whenever he needed within reason. Guys were on two floors, ladies on a different two floors and there was one floor with mixed gender rooms for couples and trans folks. 

Stuff and Thang got placed together because Stuff considered herself “gender fluid” when she first came to college and asked for that floor, where Thang gave absolutely zero fucks. The pair had become best friends faster than reasonable. He took his laptop and headset and fled the room before Roland could bring any other women over. He'd go up to their room for the raid. Bog spent almost no time in his room, as little as he possibly could. Thang liked to cook and he'd stock their fridge rather than his because Roland was a dick about the food in the fridge. 

Roland was a dick about _everything_. Spending time in their room was better for him anyway, he was further from that knife. As he stepped out of his room he nearly bowled over some Pixie of a creature, big honey eyes and short punky brunet hair. She was moving to knock when he opened the door and nearly fell back on her ass. This one was new and he just walked out and past, feeling nothing but frustration that Roland had yet another cute girl tripping over him. “Don't say sorry or anything.” She growled and there was something mildly familiar about her voice but he ignored her resolutely. Whoever she was, he didn't care. 

He knocked on Stuff and Thang's door, getting the usual “it's open” right away and walking in. “Hey BK!” Thang greeted from the kitchen as the long man plopped down on the couch. “Ready for the raid?” Stuff's shockingly deep voice questioned from the bedroom. “Oh aye. What we eatin Thang?” Stuff groaned as Thang began rattling off what it was he was making. Thang may have been a fuck up in many things but the kitchen was not one of those things. “Been marinating that roast you got us... It and some fresh veggies are in the oven, it'll probably be three hours till it'd done though. Low and slow. In the mean time, I have some stuffed peppers I felt like making...” He went through all the ingredients, making each thing sound far more important than needed. It was no shock that Thang was going to school for culinary arts, what was shocking was that the man could handle a knife without cutting his fingers off. 

When Thang finally finished telling them entirely too much about the peppers, that he'd apparently already cooked unbeknownst to the other two, he served them and Bog felt the need to tell them the good news. “Talked ta Nora today,” Stuff nodded and interjected “Shoo Fly?” He confirmed with a nod. “She jus moved inta a dorm today an turns out, small world, she's rooming with Summer Princess!” Thang nearly breathed some of his pepper in shock, leaving Stuff to clap him on the back. “Wow. That really is a small world. I thought she bailed when the servers were closed...” Bog nodded as he chewed. “She did. But she didn't know they came back up. Never thought ta tell 'er, thought everyone knew.” Stuff shrugged and they ate in quiet for a while before getting all the computers set up and everyone into a party.

~~

Marianne nearly walked face first into Roland's room mate. She'd heard from him that his roomie was rude as hell but she hadn't been expecting it still. The man said nothing to her even though he startled her badly enough that she nearly fell on her ass. He just took his laptop and wandered away. “Buttercup!” She heard from inside and suddenly Roland was at the door, wearing that charming smile that he always had and his blonde hair just perfect. “Hey hun! Saw your room mate... Seems like a bit of an ass...” He rolled his eyes and locked the door behind himself. “Don't I know it darlin! I don't even want ya comin over here... Not with that _beast_ in here.” Marianne grinned at him. “Oh Roland... I can take care of myself. I'm not afraid of him.” 

They walked out to his car and he drove them to the restaurant. It was a lovely meal, but she couldn't quite get her mind off the fact that Bog was doing a raid right then. “Buttercup... You're so distracted... Ain't I enough for you tonight?” She shook her head to clear it and then smiled sweetly at him. “Sorry, a lot on my mind right now. I've got a bunch to do tomorrow so I'm just... I'm sorry. I'll try to be more attentive.” He grinned at her, cooing at her. “Aw, I forgive ya Sweet pea.” He patted her hands but suddenly something sparkled at her hands and she cocked her head. “Marianne... I got a question fer ya...” Her eyes widened when she saw what had sparkled at her. A ring. “Oh god... Roland!” She whispered harshly as he cocked his head. “Will you be mine?” She squealed in delight, all but shouting her answer. “Yes! Of course Roland!” 

After their meal they went for a walk in a park near by, hand in hand as they ambled. In a little secluded spot Roland pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Marianne was overwhelmed by him, he pressed her back into a tree and ran his hands up her sides. His lips captured hers and refused to release them. He pressed his hips against hers and gripped her hard and needy. She whined softly against him as he ground himself into her. He slid his hands under her shirt and then up over her bra. “Roland!” She whispered as he tugged on her bra. “Oh Buttercup...” He moaned into her throat as he played with her tits. “Baby, touch me... Please... I can't take it!” He groaned into her throat and Marianne slid her hands along his muscled sides but he growled softly, grabbing her hand and pulling it down to his hips. “C'mon baby you're such a tease!” He ground himself into her hand and she whined again. He dipped his head down to nibble at the curve of her breasts as he held her shirt up and exposed her to the world. She didn't really want to be doing this in the park. What if someone saw them?

“Roland!” She hissed as he tugged at her bra. “C'mon baby!” He whined and looked up at her. “I want you so bad Sweet pea! Can't you feel it?” He asked as he ground himself into her palm, he was hard and she could feel him quiver under her hand. “Why won't you touch me?!” He hissed at her, looking very hurt. “Roland you know I wanna wait...” He kissed her pressing her back into the tree again before he spoke again. “I know! That's why I asked! K'mon! We're already practically married, we're engaged now!” She frowned and then curled her lips like she was smiling, giving him a little squeeze through his pants. “Not here..?” She pleaded and he huffed, grinding into her once more then stepping back. “Alright love. Not here.” He sounded like he was humoring a child as he rearranged himself. They finished their walk and got back in his car, heading back towards the dorm. He walked her to her room and she kissed him good night before slipping back into her room and sending him on his way. 

She really wished Roland wouldn't do that. Pressure her. But she supposed he'd been waiting for years for her. A little impatience was to be expected right? She went over to her computer immediately, hearing Nora in the other room speaking quietly. Sounded like the raid was still going on. She quickly logged on and joined. She was able to meet Stuff and Thang, Bog's best friends in college and apparently his refuge from his asshole roomie. They'd had bad luck up to that point so when she offered to hop on and help out they were nothing if not grateful. 

After they managed to get through the raid successfully Bog cut out for a few minutes to run back to his room. She talked with the others as they waited for him to return. She heard him return before he actually put the headset on. He was apparently furious. “What's going on?” She asked Thang as Stuff talked to him, trying to calm him down. “His roomie locked him out again and won't open up. Probably has a girl in their again. That guy is a womanizing ass potato. I keep telling Bog he needs to get reassigned but he won't listen to me.” Finally Bog flopped down on their couch and growled into the headset. “Bog... You ok?” She asked gently and he sighed, like her question took all the wind out of his sail. “Ah... I dun't really wanna talk about it at... This _exact_ moment Princess... Maybe later?” She could hear the other two that were in the room muttering, probably off headset elsewhere. “Ok, but... When you're ready... just... Lemme know... Kay?”

“Hey, we're gonna go take Bog to get some snacks... we'll be back... in like... twenty? Maybe thirty?” Marianne made a little startled noise at Stuff's sudden insistence that they were going to hop off for a minute then she heard the mics unplugging. “Oh... well... See you in a bit... If you can hear me...” Nora came out of their bedroom and made a motion to her, letting her know to cut it out. Marianne frowned and Nora came over, whispering in her ear. “Unplug...” She did as instructed and Nora flopped on the couch. “Shit.” She said simply and rubbed her hands over her face, displacing her large glasses. “What's going on? Is there something wrong?” Marianne couldn't help but be flustered as Nora flopped to the side and looked at her, glasses crooked to the point of useless. 

“Bog... Doesn't really want anyone to know but Thang is terrible at keeping secrets. He and Stuff found out that Bog... You can't breath a word of this to him because if he finds out people know he will flip...” Marianne felt her heart sinking, something was bad with her dear friend and she didn't even know what. “That room mate of his stole the chick he'd been with... The pair of them are still together but his room mate has as many girls as he can lead on at any given point in time. It put Bog in a bad place... One he doesn't really seem to get out of. Stuff and Thang will take him and help him chill out when his roomie does shit like this... like locking him out.” Marianne growled and frowned at the thought of her good friend being locked out of their home because of an asshole. “Why doesn't he change room mates?” Nora shrugged and sighed. “Self recrimination? Masochism? I don't know. I've heard Stuff argue with him about it before.” Marianne sighed this time. 

“Hey, I've got an early class, if you stay up till they come back then let them know. Kay?” Marianne nodded and leaned back in her chair. It was a while until the line picked back up and then it was just Bog who got back on. “Lo?” He questioned as she saw Stuff and Thang leave the group. “Hey. You ok?” He sighed and she heard Stuff and Thang say good night to him, clearly passing him before they headed to bed. “Night guys. Thanks again. Yea Tough Girl, 'm fine. Jus needed to blow off some steam.” She sighed and curled up in her chair, pulling her knees up to her chin as she listened to his voice. “Yer sure? Your staying at Stuff and Thang's tonight?” He made a soft noise of affirmation and she sighed. “Bog... Everything I've heard about your room mate is terrible... Why don't you put in to change room mates?” He sighed and she could hear his hands rub his face. “Just... Too much work y'know. An all the shit he does... None a it's stuff the TA's ever believe me bout. Slimy piece a shit's got half tha wurld charmed.” He yawned and she smiled at the noise, sighing softly to herself.

~~

“You should still try. You deserve better.” The voice on the headset said the thing that Stuff had said so many times it'd lost meaning. But this was his long time friend, his Tough girl... He felt his heart hammering at the idea she thought he deserved better. “Bog?” She questioned and he blinked, shaking his head where he laid on the couch, feet up on the arm of the thing because he was too long, one of Thang's extra comforters over him. “Yea, 'm here. Sorry.” He twirled the kitchen knife in his fingers, as he listened to her breathe for a few moments. He absently pressed the blade against the back of his wrist, not actually hurting himself, just feeling it. “I'm serious Bog. You deserve someone who can at least understand that what he's doing isn't ok. What would you say if I were dealing with someone like that?” He growled and then hissed as he pulled his hand back, catching the tip of the blade in his skin. “Fuck. Dammit Prin...” He cussed as he reached a long arm to grab a napkin to blot the few dots of blood on his hand where the tip had poked him. Not what he had been planning, but the pain focused him. “What? You know you'd be saying the same thing to me!” She defended herself and he panted his frustration as he put pressure on his small wound. “Yea. Yer... Yer right. But I bet yer a cute little thing aint ya? Not some ugly ass dude...” She hissed angrily at him. “If you keep that up I'll demand you send me a picture so I can be the judge!”

He paled at the idea. He didn't want her to see him, to know what his ugly mug looked like. He had crooked teeth and he was too sharp all over, his nose too long, eyes too sunken, cheekbones too sharp and chin too long. “Nah... I won't send ya a picture even iffin ya demand Princess. I like talkin to ya too much. Dun't wanna scare ya off.” He tried to make light of it but she made that angry hissing noise at him again. “Bog... Serious! I'm sure you're not as hideous as you claim to be. You're always so mean to you. I _like_ you Bog. So stop. You could look like Jaba the hut and I'd still be friends with you!” A laugh caught in his throat at the suggestion. “All right Tough girl. Ah dunt wanna keep ya up too late though...” She sighed on the other side and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I like talking to you though. And Nora went to bed. I'm too awake. Unless... you need to go to sleep...” He shrugged uselessly then actually responded verbally. “Nah. Jus dun't wanna keep ya up too long.” She laughed softly and he looked a the damage he'd done. Not bad, still stung too, even better.

“Wanna run around for a little while before we go to bed?” She questioned and he smiled to himself. “Yea, I'd like that.” Maybe he could forget about how much his life sucked for a while. They both logged on and made their way to a server. Time fell away without him noticing right up until he heard her yawning. “Ok Tough girl... ya need sleep, kin hear ya yawnin.” She made a soft noise of disagreement. “Don't wanna.” He laughed at her and she groaned. The noise was... Erotic. He guessed she was stretching but he didn't know for sure. “Ya need ta.” He insisted then when she started to grumble he interjected again. “I need ta hit the hay too...” She whined softly. “Ok. I suppose. I need to sneak in and not wake Nora up...” He chuckled and made a joke about one of the powers. “Oh just use lullaby...” She tittered and hummed the noise that came along with the power and he blinked at the ceiling. “I could sleep ta that.” He muttered and heard her pause for a long moment.

“Hush my baby make no sound, Maybe we can wait each other out... It's a coooold war...” She sang a lyric he didn't know off the top of his head and she giggled to herself as his heart clenched again. “Sorry. I guess that's a terrible lullaby.” He spoke to the room not really to her. “Dun't know... Sounds luvly.” She made a soft noise, maybe a yawn? He should stop flirting with her and let her get to bed. She had a boyfriend... He needed to remember that. She wasn't _his_ even as much as he might think of her as _his_ princess... “Git some sleep luv.” Finally they got off the headsets and he laid there on the couch staring at the darkness in the room. He felt a little tickle on his arm and he dabbed at it reflexively with the napkin even though his little wound was long scabbed. She was so damn sweet. So kind. Too damn kind. That guy who had her better be treating her right. He didn't know what he'd do if she was with some shit like Roland. Probably go to jail for beating the guy to death.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So if you're into a more... Subtle Roland... This is not the story for you XD
> 
> Things get kinda mean and nasty in this chapter...

College was a busy time for Marianne. Sunday was raid night, and she managed to clear her schedule for it, she talked to Bog nearly every night, even if it was just IM's because his room mate was having noisy sex in the next room. She and Nora got along famously, Marianne did most the cooking and was getting into a routine of cleaning up a bit more than she was used to so that Nora wasn't uncomfortable. Classes were great except she had that rude as hell, tall guy who was Roland's room mate in a few classes. She stayed away from him as much as she could, especially because he looked at her with a weird look, she wasn't sure but it almost looked like... Pity... Which was just ridiculous, there was nothing for him to pity her about. He scowled most of the time, and he was tall so it was hard to miss him. She thought he might be on the basket ball team but he didn’t seem like he was interested in sports. 

She'd found where the gym and weight rooms were and used them at least twice a week. One day she was walking in and the tall guy, Roland called him “bug” claiming he looked like a praying mantis, was walking out and she glanced at him, he was rather well muscled for someone who was as thin as he was. In fact he was almost all muscle, lean and tight. Their eyes met for just a moment and he looked pointedly away from her immediately. Marianne grit her teeth then something caught her eye. A very straight, long line across his left bicep. It wasn't anything for her to be worried about was it? She didn't like the guy. He was an ass. But she couldn't quite help the worry she felt when she saw the very, very straight and even cut, it looked fairly deliberate. He was gone before she could even finish thinking about what she'd seen. Maybe it wasn't what it looked like? Maybe it was from something... Sadly she was really sure she was right. There were some things that were just too obvious and had he not been wearing a sleeveless top she never would have seen it. Even a regular teeshirt would have covered it.

It turned her stomach to think of someone hurting themselves intentionally and she found she couldn't quite hate him as much anymore. He clearly had problems, maybe that was why he was so rude. Maybe she could talk to Roland about it, maybe he just needed a friend? Who was she kidding? If even half of what Roland said was true he was a total ass. She tried to steel herself against the man but something about him, he was in here alone, no one to spot him, and he was cutting. 

No mater how hard she tried to close her mind to it something about him made her think of Bog. Bog was lonely and upset most the time, this guy was clearly alone and lonely. Sure this guy was an ass to his roomie where as Bog had a cock nozzle for a roomie... but both clearly felt out of place in their room. She stopped her set and pulled out her cell, calling Roland but he didn't pick up. No biggie, but she really wanted to talk to someone. She finished that set and stood, pacing for a bit. Bog had given her his cell number and she knew Nora was in class. Marianne chewed her lip for a long moment before finally dialing her online friend. The rough sound of Bog's voice echoed to her through the airwaves. 

“Hey... I need... I guess I just need someone to sound off of...” She paused her lip chewing to wait for his response. “Wul have at Tough Girl.” He sounded slightly winded but he might be going between classes. “Well... I just saw muh boyfriends roomie... and... I mean he's an ass to me... but I'm worried he might be... hurting himself.” There was deathly silence on the other end of the phone. “I just, I don't know what to do about that... Like... do I try to help him? Will he hate me more for knowing?” Bog coughed on the other end of the line as she paused. “I mean... do ya know the guy? Talked with 'im?” She shook her head uselessly. “Nothing more than saying hello to him in passing a couple times. He doesn't even respond most times.” She knew she wasn't properly representing the guy, she'd been nothing if not brisk with him after their first meeting and his subsequent strange looks. “Wull... I mean... You could try but sometimes people like that don't want help. So if he snaps back at ya... be prepared fer that...” She nodded and toweled off. Her time was up anyway, she was meeting Roland in a bit to watch him at practice. “Thanks Bog. You're the best. I'll talk to you later?” Their conversation wrapped up normally and she felt better for having talked about it.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes she met up with Roland who was entirely too excited to see her. “Buttercup! I hate ta do this to ya... But do ya mind goin' up to my room and grabbing some stuff for me?” She laughed at him and shook her head as he handed her the key to his room. He didn't need them for practice but for directly after practice. She jogged back to the dorm and up to his room, opening it quickly and running to the bathroom first, where he'd said one of the items was. She didn't think anything of the closed door to the bathroom and when the handle wasn't locked she just twisted it open. Inside she came face to face with his room mate.

~~

Bog blinked up at the now open door. Flavor of the month had opened the door and now she was staring at him, eyes wide, cute little mouth agape, those honey colored eyes flashed from his face to his arm to the knife in the other hand. Before he could register anything more than shock, her expression turned fierce and fiery. She stepped into the bathroom and snatched the blade out of his hand, able to disarm him easily with his shock and her intense speed. She pushed him with one hand to a seated position on the toilet and stuffed the knife in her back pocket. She ripped open the medicine cabinet with such force that the thing nearly came off the wall. 

When he moved his arm in to get it away from her she grabbed his wrist and pulled it back out over the sink, keeping the blood in the basin and not letting it drip all over. He thought to protest at this point but she slammed a box with gauze in it onto the sink top followed very shortly by antiseptic cream. She jammed her hands under the sink and washed them quickly before using a piece of ripped off gauze as a rag to clean his arm. He looked up at her and she wasn't looking at him, a look of grim determination on her face. He started to reach in to take over since it was clear she was going to doctor him but she slapped his hand away with her tiny hands. A single word escaped her. “Don't.”

She was overwhelming, a whirlwind. How could Roland be cheating on her? This chick? She was cute, she was fierce, and she lifted weights... Her lip went between her teeth as she delicately spread the ointment on his arm, before wrapping the gauze around his self inflicted injury. Soft fingers smoothed the gauze and she reached back into the cabinet, pulling out a compression bandage that she deftly wrapped around his arm and tore off without difficulty. She hunched slightly over his arm, her hands braced on the sink, when he looked back up to her face, her eyes were forced closed tightly. 

She was suddenly stricken, he had no idea what was bothering her so much, they weren't friends, she didn't know him, to the point of being short with him. He wished desperately that hearing his Tough Girl's voice hadn't sent him spiraling. Princess was sweet, and her worrying over some random asshole who apparently cut made his self loathing deepen. It was far to similar to himself, especially because he was harboring feelings for her. He was loath to admit it to anyone, but her voice roused him in the worst ways. The dirty feeling had really sent him into a tail spin and had been the reason there were so many new lines on his arm.

Suddenly the girl straightened and dabbed at her eyes with her fingers, careful of her makeup. Snatching something of Roland's out of the cupboard. She set the knife on the edge of the sink with a loud clinking. “Please don't.” She said it quietly, drawing his eyes up to hers, and she stood there, hand on the knife, pressing it back against the counter for a long moment. But just as quickly as she'd come, she was out of the bathroom, just as much a dervish as she'd come in. He might have to confront Roland about giving her their key... and about his terrible, cheating ways. 

Either that or he really would have to get a different room mate. He stood, topless, arm bandaged and looked out at their room. She was running around cursing under her breath. “Hey...” He used his best Midwest accent, he didn't need anyone knowing any _other_ reasons to ridicule him. “Yer lookin for his shit... It's by the door...” Wide, wounded eyes looked back at him and his heart lurched. Fuck! She was beautiful in the way that wild things are lovely. Like a feral animal that didn't think you could see it. “Oh... Um... Thanks.” She shuddered visibly then shook her head as though to clear it. Yea, he knew he was ugly but that shit hurt. He soured slightly to her for just a moment as she started to walk towards the door but then her hand rested on the wall and she stopped. She didn't look at him again, just at the floor in front of her.

“There are counselors, people. Friends. Just... if it were a friend of mine doing that instead of talking to me it'd... It'd kill me to know that they were hurting themselves. You have to have someone. And if you don't... You can talk to me. I won't... I will try not to judge you or your problems, I will do my best to be there for you if you need someone.” She still didn't look at him but angled her face towards him. “I'm planning on lifting tomorrow, same time. If you wanna come... If you can... I need a spotter anyway.” He nodded and she must have seen it even if she wasn't really looking. She stooped and picked up the last things then was gone. Fuck. He'd just agreed to be her spotter? What the shit was wrong with him?! And he had two classes with her in them this afternoon... one right after another! God was she going to be all weird? Try to talk to him or change where she always sat? Did he skip? Would she call for a wellness check on him if he did? Could he go back to being cold to her? After she'd very literally cared for him? FUCK.

He went to class and she caught his eyes with hers and gave him a tiny nod then went on with her usual routine. They said nothing, she said nothing, just locked eyes with him on the way out of the second class and gave him a tiny, timid smile before running off to probably go blow Roland. Uggh. Life just got a hell of a lot more complicated. He rested his fingers on his arm, the new slices, the gauze and bandage she'd laid on him a constant reminder that his life was different now. She wanted to talk to him but how did he talk to anyone about why he'd put those specific marks on him? And being that one of his biggest problems was her boyfriend... Fuck. Shit.

He stopped by Stuff and Thang's room first, not really wanting to chance walking past Roland getting it on with her but he had to get his headset so he eventually meandered down there. He opened the door quietly to moans and groans. He rolled his eyes and made a bee line for his room. He found his headset and went to leave as quietly as humanly possible. “Roland!” The tone stopped him dead, it was sharp and scolding. “Awe k'mon Buttercup! We're _engaged_ y'keep pushin me off I'm gonna think ya don't love me...” She was quick on her retort. “Engaged isn't married... You know I wanna wait...” There was a sound of a zipper and she made a startled noise. “K'mon it's close enough...” She protested with his name again and Bog found himself furious. His fists clenched, arms tense and shaking, He just needed to leave, but he couldn't. She had protested and Roland was just... He was just gonna go ahead and... fuck... Roland turned a deaf ear to her. “Roland! Please! Stop!” Bog could not turn a deaf ear. He could not ignore. He could not stop himself from seeing red. 

His mother had told stories of how evil flourishes when good men do nothing. 

Was he a good man? 

That was up for debate but he could not do nothing. “Buttercup...” The tone was condescending and pleading at the same time and Bog turned on heel. Her next cry was smothered, probably by his mouth as Bog took the three steps to get around the divider. He was assaulted by the sight of his asshole room mate, wrist deep in her pants, pinning her face to his as she pushed on him, his own pants undone. She was trying to squirm away from him as she made muffled noises of shock. She saw Bog first. She might have been _trying_ to cover her face but she succeeded in slugging Roland right in the jaw. 

Bog grabbed the dog of a man by the nap of the neck and the elbow. He yanked the smaller, heavier man off of his girlfriend and just drug the son of a bitch off, screaming and fighting the whole time. “She... Said... **STOP**!” His bellow quickly pulled heads out of their rooms as Bog pitched the fucker down the hall and then stalked after him. Roland scrambled away from him, pants at half mast and a bruise on his face. “You scared her you fucker!” Roland spat back and Bog shook his head slowly as the shit head got to his feet. “She said “ _Roland_ please stop” you lecherous _pig_.” Suddenly someone was on his back attacking him. He could vaguely hear Stuff shouting for Thang and then the pounding feet down the hall as Roland charged forward. One or more of Roland's cronies was on his back, a random TA was trying to pry them all apart and Stuff was on the assholes ripping into them both verbally and physically, with Thang slamming down the stairs now that he was pulled around to face them for a moment. It took almost as little time for the fight to break up as it did for it to start. 

There was the threat of cops being called and Bog welcomed the idea with loud insistence. “Yea! Call the feckin cops! Maybe they can explain wut fuckin _stop_ means to him!” Good ole sleaze bucket Roland talked the TA into not calling the cops insisting this was all just tempers and misunderstandings. Never mind the image burned into Bogs mind of her pushing back against the fucker, of him pinning her down. Stuff and Thang offered to house him for the night and the TA promised to push a room mate change but Bog wasn't so sure anymore that he should. Now he felt like he should stay to protect girls from this skeeze. Cock block the fucker. But he had to think of himself. He gave her a chance at least.

~~

Marianne hid in her room. Nora had a class and Marianne didn't know who to turn to. It'd been so embarrassing. Roland would have stopped, he would have, he had to. But his room mate had broken in after she asked Roland to stop and he hadn't quite stopped yet when the roomie came around the corner. She'd reacted without thinking, she'd punched Roland and he was going to be mad at her now, she was sure of it. And she'd forgotten to give him back his key. She should fix that. She should take it back to his room. Now. Yet she still sat, still as a statue thinking about what had happened. There'd been a fight in the halls... She'd managed to slip away while they fought, too freaked out to think straight. So many people, so fast! That was dorms for you. She had to run up two flights of stairs to get to her room and there were people running down towards the fight immediately. 

No she needed to give him back his key immediately. He might get locked out if she didn't. She steeled herself and walked slowly down the stairs, the fight happened a good half an hour ago, probably closer to an hour. Everything was relativity quiet as she made her way towards Roland's room. She unlocked the door and opened it quietly, hoping against hope that his room mate was gone. She was assaulted by the sounds of sex when she opened the door. She winced, his room mate was in then wasn't he? “Yes! YES! _ROLAND_!” Marianne's eyes widened, she slipped, silent as an asp into the room and peeked around the room divider, catching sight of Roland and his... whatever. She slipped back, just as silently out of the room, having thought enough to drop the keys before she slammed the door and ran off. Nora was back by the time she ran all the way up to their room. “Hey... HEY! You ok? What's... Are you alright?!” Nora was a kind girl but she just couldn't talk about this right now.

“Nora... can I use your laptop?” When Nora nodded she stomped over to her computer and unlocked it. “You can use mine... If anyone comes asking for me I'm not here. I don't care who it is.” Nora nodded again mutely and unlocked her laptop, doing something swiftly. “There. I made you a profile... now you don't have to log out of any of my stuff... I'll do the same on your computer?” Nora was practical in ways that Marianne was incapable at the moment and she really appreciated her room mate in that moment. She took the headset off her computer and took the laptop... then closed herself in their bedroom and bawled. 

Nora didn't bother her for over an hour and then just knocked and let her know there was pizza if she wanted some. Marianne just lay on her bed, messaging her sister and trying to get her emotions under control. Dawn always managed to cheer her up, though it wasn't working too well at the moment. Eventually she saw that Bog was online and she messaged him, not wanting to talk to him with voice chat until her throat was better, but he sent a call to her immediately. “Hey tough girl...” He sounded happy to talk to her and she smiled softly. “Hey Bog...” He picked up on her being out of sorts immediately. “You ok?” She coughed softly into her hand and lied. “Oh, think I'm comin down with somethin. Feelin shit right now. I was just gonna message you but... you called.” 

“Then don't talk. I kin talk an fill our time with sound fer ya... er I kin let ya sleep...” She sniffled slightly and rolled on her back. “If you don't mind... I like the sound of your voice.” She hugged herself as she laid there, feeling cold and sick all over. There was a warm huff that sounded like he was pleased with her choice. He talked, told jokes, made her smile. Called her names and made her laugh. He didn't make her talk, she just enjoyed some short conversations and listening to him, her Bog King. They talked about the clan and he offered to share the guild with her sighting her having become an asset and the fact that she was a veteran player. Marianne giggled demurely, though her throat was still sore from crying she felt the need to respond. 

“Bog _King_. Are you trying to _seduce me_ and make this _Princess_ your _Queen_?” He laughed raucously at her joke, then with a purr to his voice he responded. “Mayhaps Ah _am, Princess_...” _That_ made her shiver. She pulled her shoulders to her ears to protect her neck from him. Never mind that he wasn't there. Never mind that he wasn't _able_ to lean into her neck, that he _couldn't_ lay his lips against her neck, or make that gravely purr against her ear. They had always made jokes like that but tonight she felt exposed, like those jokes were too real now. Maybe it was because she was going to kick Roland to the curb or because they were something kinda sorta possible. Maybe because she didn't really want them to be _jokes_.

~~

There were frozen peas held against his head for far too long until Stuff was pleased with the lack of swelling in his face. When they finally let him get online Summer Princess was already there. When he heard her voice he knew something was wrong but then it was just her being sick so he entertained her. At least he could do that. Supper happened very late and she went quiet while he was eating. Softly, he heard a noise, it sounded like snoring. “Tough girl? Prin?” He questioned and she snored a bit louder. She was sick so he could forgive her falling asleep on him, not that he'd take offense anyway. He sat back and listened to her breathing and light snoring for a few minutes. Then he messaged Nora who was on and let her know that Prin had passed out, still on mic with him. Nora made a glib comment back and he could hear her come in the room and cluck over her room mate. There was a snoring snort before the sound cut out and Nora turned the chat off. He pulled out his phone and texted her, just a simple “Sleep well, get well” before he settled into the too small couch and tried to get some sleep. He imagined he was sleeping with her for a long, wistful moment before he threw the idea away and forced himself to try and relax.

He woke up stiff but packed himself for going to the gym when Roland's girlfriend went. He wasn't shocked when she wasn't there. He wasn't sure he'd want to see her either, but she'd offered and if she felt up to it he'd join her. He started his lifting without her. He was almost done when she walked in, not dressed in work out clothes but in normal clothes. She looked like she was ready to flee but she saw him and her back straightened, her arms fell from across her chest and she stomped over to him. “You didn't put gauze back on it!” He was in the middle of a set so he didn't feel compelled to answer. Then he set the weight down with unnecessary force. “Yea. I didn't. So what?” It was hard keeping up the accent and forcing his own to the back but he wasn't interested in dropping this particular ruse. 

She frowned and huffed, her eyes were challenging as she held his gaze once he sat. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, ceding the staring contest by looking down. “Look... M'sorry.” He tried to keep his accent from slipping. “You knew. You knew he was cheating this whole time didn't you? And you never said _anything_.” He glared up at her then stood, towering over her smaller form. “That's what yer gonna get ina snit about? He was _raping_ you! You told him to _stop_ and he _didn't_!” Her arms were across her chest again, glaring up into him. “He would have!” He sneered back at her, she didn't change her expression, even as he spoke. “Oh and you believe that don'tcha? Bet you believed he only had you too. I'm out.” He looked away finally and shifted on his feet, mildly disgusted. She caught his wrist and was quiet for a second. “I did. I believed him. And I probably wouldn't have believed you if you tried to tell me.” She admitted, her voice apologetic, soft and honest. 

He stopped, not because of her words or her hand but because of the tone. “Kay...” She looked up at him with a pained smile. “Did you get in trouble? For the fight?” He shook his head, still feeling a bit shocked that she had admitted that he was right. “No...” She nodded and tugged at him slightly, sitting down in the abandoned room. “So, what had you upset... you know... before I saw you in the bathroom.” He huffed at the subject change and plopped down. “There's a girl.” He admitted and she smiled softly at him. “Oh?” He nodded and rubbed his hands across his stubble riddled face, mildly ashamed but willing to talk to her. 

“Yea, I've known her some time... and she's in a relationship... and I've fallen for her.” She made a noise of sympathy that made him give a wry snort. “I can't tell her cus I don't wanna chance scaring her away, she's... my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without her. But I've started _fantasizing_ about her...” He winced at the idea of telling this... total stranger, about what he felt for Princess but she didn't seem to be upset with him or disgusted. “Why does fantasizing about her make you... want to hurt yourself?” He looked up at her, there was no recrimination in her face, just sad curiosity. “Well 'm hideous fer one thing. An it's just wrong fer the other.” She shook her head. “You're not hideous... and I don't know why it's “just wrong” if you don't act on your fantasies... I mean... So long as you're not humping her in the halls...”

He winced at the image in his mind. “Yea but if she ever found out...” She cut him off with a wry grin. “You don't know that she'd be offended. I for one think I'd probably be a bit uncomfortable but ultimately find it a bit flattering.” He frowned at her, what the hell was with this girl? Seriously? She'd find someone fantasizing about her _flattering_? “Oh really?” He let his eyes rove over her once then gave her a humorless smile, his eyes flat and a bit angry. “It's you.” He lied. This would fix her, prove both his points in one fell swoop. 

“You're who I was fantasizin about, just a few minutes before ya came in... If ya'd been five minutes earlier I'da been floggin myself in tha other room to the memory of yer face.” She blinked and pulled her chin back, eyes suddenly wide. He doubled down on the lie. He tried to act like it wasn't a lie, tried to sell it so she wouldn't know immediately. “Why d'ya think I never look't ya? An I saw ya just before I went back ta my room...” He tried to make his angry eyes warm, let his jaw hang slightly with a deep breath, pretending that he was waiting for her to reject him. Almost imperceptibly her shoulder pulled away from him and he never let his eyes fall from hers. He saw every tiny flicker of emotion run across her face. Shock, fear, anger, but never disgust that he could openly point out. “Oh?” She questioned, so still he could almost question if the noise even came from her. “Yep.” He popped the end of the word, still burning her with his gaze. He was waiting for the inevitable moment where she flipped out and he saw her swallow. 

She blinked suddenly and cocked her head at him, expression of mild shock frozen on her face. “Liar.” The word was quiet and slightly cold. “But that's a nice thought. Lovely to think that the guy who protected me like that, fought for me, would have a crush on me.” Her face slowly morphed into one of irritation. “But we both know I'm not who you're talking about.” The fact that she called his bluff let some humor creep into his face. “Yea but think about that long ass moment of uncertainty you just had.” He let his head hang for a moment. He nearly jumped out of his skin as her tiny warm hands touched him. “Look. If she's your best friend, if she's worth that title... She'd prefer you “flogging” yourself over hurting yourself.” She sighed and sagged where she sat a little, her eyes drifting off to the side. “I will probably regret asking... but... What do you actually gain? What benefit can you claim from... That...” She gestured towards his arm and his eyes followed her motion. She sounded so much like Princess sometimes. It was _almost_ like he was talking to his Tough girl, almost. 

“Wu...” He blinked at her and then sat up. “Why?” Suddenly he felt like a caged animal, her eyes saw him too clearly, her question too perceptive. She frowned at his question. “Because... if you feel that you actually gain something from it then me just telling you to stop is no better than me trying to guilt you... it won't work...” He stood and turned away, towards the door, feeling suddenly fragile. “You a psych major?” He asked, trying to change the subject. She stood as well, but didn't follow him. “No... Teaching...” He scoffed but she pressed. “Do you? Get anything from it?” He clamped his jaw closed, looking out without seeing. “Pain.” He walked out and she didn't follow him, not hearing her voice again even if she said something.

~~

Marianne wrapped herself in her arms again, adopting the uncertain gesture she'd had when she first walked into the weight room. She was blisteringly glad they'd been alone for that whole conversation. It was strange. She felt so... compelled to help him. To try and understand him. Maybe it was because it distracted her from the truth of what he had said. She really didn't know Roland very well. He was always reluctant to stop when she asked him to. That was true, but he'd always stopped, even if he had always taken things one step further than she was comfortable with. He was right though. Roland not stopping when she told him to actually could... _did_... constitute rape. He didn't stop. He might not have stopped that time! She shuddered at the realization, not just that she'd been saved, really truly saved, but what she had been saved from. 

It was a winding realization. One she was not really wanting to dwell on so she pushed it away. When had she become so complacent? So meek that someone not respecting her bodily autonomy would be forgiven and their transgression ignored? Fuck him. FUCK Roland. Fuck him for making her feel small, for making her so god awful grateful that he even looked at her. Especially being that while she thought his eyes were only for her, they were anything but. As the day went by she found herself absorbed by the dawning realization. Later, the room mate and she caught eyes and she'd given him a weak smile but he just jutted his chin up at her in a masculine motion of acknowledgment. She locked herself away in her room and spoke with Bog, telling him nothing of what had happened, of what she was feeling. She was feeling stupid for having ever thought Roland was sweet, or kind. Roland the snake didn't bother to come to her when she didn't show to hang out with him. It bothered her more than she'd liked to admit. Had he loved her surely the change in her would have been noted and inquired about.

Apparently he'd never loved her. 

She didn't notice the shift in her own choices. The darker makeup, long sleeves, her own seclusion. She didn't seek out anyone to talk to. She still talked with Nora and the few friends she'd made in her time but she didn't speak to Roland or his friends. His room mate smiled or nodded at her every time she met his eyes, like he was less bothered by her anymore. He seemed happier. That made her smile softly behind her smoky purple makeup. 

She actually thought about going and talking to him, he seemed to singularly understand her plight. The few times they had talked they'd mostly been checking on each other. He'd noted he didn't see her around his room anymore in a polite request to know if she'd left Roland. She showed off her bare finger and he'd chuckled softly at the display. She'd asked if he was doing better and he coughed, giving a sidelong look around before lifting his sleeve to show her that the marks were healing nicely and hadn't multiplied. She gave him a beaming, genuine, smile and he blushed at her soft praise. Class had interrupted their conversation and the pair sat in amiable silence the rest of that class, though they didn't seek each other out in the next class.

It was a full week until Roland confronted her. She growled at him and told him she'd seen him with another woman. He swore up and down that he had simply been overcome with frustration at her having punched him, did she know that she nearly broke his cheek? She flipped him off and walked away. It felt so good to walk away from him literally as well as metaphorically. Her world was quieter. She was not expecting him to show up at her room. Nora had forgotten the door unlocked while she ran down to a friends room so no one was there when he slipped into their room like the snake he was. 

“Marianne... We need to talk.” She jolted and turned to look at him. “Roland! Get... Out...” She demanded and he grinned maliciously at her. “Now sugar... don't you think you're bein a bit hard on me... I mean considerin... you an my ex room mate seem awful close right suddenly...” He loomed over her and she jerked away from him as he tried to run a hand over her cheek. “There's nothing between he and I... I don't even know his name.” He scoffed and shook his head at her. “Oh so that's how yer gonna play it? Fine. I can drop the gentlemanly act...” Suddenly he lunged at her and she brought her hands up to protect herself but he bowled her backwards onto her bed.

“K'mon whore!” He taunted as he managed to pin her arms as she fought him. Suddenly his teeth hit her neck and he bit her... BIT HER! Hard! She managed to hit him in the face with the palm of her hand as he retreated to view his handywork. “There... Now I've marked ya as _mine_ and you kin stop this foolishness... Tryin ta make me jealous...” Her balled fist landed in his gut knocking him off her, her other hand covering the tender spot on her throat. “We're DONE!” She screamed at him as he stood. 

It was so fast that she didn't even see it until his knuckles snapped her head to the side. “Now look what you made me go and do...” Suddenly though, from behind him there was a small steely voice. “Remove yourself from my room immediately.” Roland rolled his eyes and turned to see Nora. “ _You_ are not welcome in _my_ room. Remove yourself before I call the fucking cops you _insignificant_ cock stain.” Suddenly Marianne was behind Nora and glared balefully at Roland as he walked casually out of the dorm room. “I'll talk ta _you_ later then.” He directed it at Marianne over Noras head, her growl vaulted back at him. “No you won't. Leave me alone or else Roland.”

When the door finally closed Marianne sighed. “I feel like I need a drink.” Nora appraised her, motioning for her to bring her head down to where the slightly shorter woman could see it. “You _do_ need a drink. What an ass! I can't believe he fucking backhanded you!” Marianne sighed and accepted the warm hug the smaller woman seemed want to give her. “Sad to say... I'm not. Everything was a lie. Everything.” Marked. He'd fucking marked her... Bit her on purpose to put a mark on her. He'd called her a whore. Nora got out a secret stash of booze and they drank for a while. 

Eventually Nora had to retire and Marianne sat at her computer chair, half blitzed and nearly crying. Bog was talking to her but she hadn't told him, just told him she had a terrible day and Nora had plied her with booze. “M'surry...” She slurred into her knees as she picked at her skin. “Wut fer?” He questioned gently. She crossed her arms and found herself clawing her skin, leaving red marks behind her nails. “M'jus surry... Y'know? I suck.” She grumbled and she could hear the worry in his voice. “Wut?! Princess... No! You... Ya dun't suck. Yer jus outa sorts.” She shook her head not that he could tell. “No... I suck. I... Y'know I talked ta that guy. The one who was the roomie? Yea, he showed me... M'skared... I... I _understand_.” The last word was articulated frighteningly clearly, her own honesty worried her.

She was scared because she looked at the place where she'd nearly scratched herself bloody and understood, intrinsically, why pain was something he could get out of hurting himself. It was a release, to hurt on the outside so you didn't have to hurt on the inside, even if only for a bit. She sobbed as Bog stammered, trying to find a way to calm her. “He _marked_ me! Bog he _**bit**_ me!” She could hear his fury, he made a noise half between a shout and a growl. “What?!” He demanded. In her addled state she didn't realize _who_ it sounded like she was talking about. “He hit me... an pinned me down... an he's so _mean_! I **hate** him! Make him go away Bog!” She pleaded with Bog, desperately wanting Roland gone. She kept talking over him as he tried to comfort her through his rage. “M'reely srry. No more... M'all dun.” She was too drunk to hear the sharp intake of breath. “Tough Girl... Princess... Talk to me... Fer the luv a God, please...” He pleaded with her. She sniffled softly and quieted as he took his turn to plead. “Summer... Please... I cannea... I cannea _be_ there... Ah need ya ta be safe... An yer scarin me, I dunnea feel like yer safe...”

~~

She moaned sadly. “But m' not! M'not safe!” Bog jittered on the couch, he was over at Stuff and Thangs, the pair were flitting around. They'd been relaxing but when he started getting more and more anxious they'd started to take notice. By the time he was growling they both had retreated and would come out intermittently to check on him. He'd set his laptop down and now was hanging his head, the cord of the headset hanging between his limp hands as he closed his eyes and listened. “Is... Nora there?” He asked softly, trying to find a way to calm his fear. “Shit... Yea... sh's sleepin...” She answered softly. “D'ya think ya kin sleep?” He listened through a long silence then she responded. “Yea. Yea I need ta crawl in. M'sarry Bog.” He shook his head. “Nae. Just git sum rest Tough Girl. Yer... Yer tough, y'll be fine... Right?” He heard the soft affirmative and the yawn. “Good, git ta bed Tough girl. Gotta be ready fer tamorrow.” He felt his heart break as she ended the call.

He leaned back on the couch and Stuff was there, peeking out of the bedroom at him, cautious and curious, followed closely by Thang. “She ok?” Bog pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning. “Fer now? She's drunk an upset. Some fucker _bit_ her. 'S got her upset.” Thang made a noise of disgust and Stuff growled to herself. “Can't blame her for being upset! Bit her? Why the fuck?!” Bog stood, having discarded his headset carelessly. “She said he did it to mark her.” The pair looked on in shock and fear. 

“Mark?” Thang questioned and Bog just nodded. “That's...” Bog cut them off. “He hit her. I need ta talk ta Nora. Find out what's goin on o're there.” He picked his shit up and made his way towards the door. “Are _you_ gonna be ok?” Thang asked and Bog rocked on his feet slightly. “Aye. Jus need sum sleep.” The other two nodded and he trudged down to his room. Roland had been scarce these few days but he wasn't tonight. He was having a heated conversation with his buddies and Bog was quick to slip into his room but not before hearing him complain about Marianne. Bog was pretty sure that was the chick he'd pulled the asshole off of. What. a. Douche Canoe. Bog was too drained to stop and listen to see what it was the dick hole was plotting or venting about.

In the morning he followed his usual routine. Sometimes the girl, Marianne, he's pretty sure that's her name, would be there when he got to the weight room. She was today and she looked to be on fire like she hadn't been since she saw him bleeding, maybe not even then. It took him only a second to notice the bandage on her neck and the scratches on her arm. “Looks like you got into a fight... What's the _other_ guy look like?” She looked over at him, her jaw set and she sent a glare his way he knew he didn't deserve. She was quick to look away again and growl her answer. “ _Roland_ is what the guy looked like.” Bog felt the bottom fall out of his stomach, what the fuck? “Wait... Are you ok?” He said more softly. What was with women around him getting fuckered up? She dropped the weight and stood, lips pressed in a thin white line. “Maybe?” He frowned at the scratches on her arm, something didn't fit. Yea she had some makeup on her face to obscure the slightly swollen cheek she had and a patch of bandage on her neck but the scratches didn't seem quite right. Roland didn't seem the clawing type.

“Yer arm looks like you had another disagreement with a cat...” She blinked at him for a moment then looked at the offending arm. “Oh... Shit. Forgot about that...” He motioned to her face and stepped further into the room, glad it held to it's usual abandoned nature. “You took care of... those just fine... How'd you forget a mess'a scratches like that?” She sighed heavily and didn't meet his gaze, his eyes flickering between her face and her arm. When she crossed her arms, fingers laying near the scratches, his knees nearly went. 

“You did those...” His stomach turned and he felt faint. She'd... She'd clawed up her own arm. He was painfully aware of what those wounds looked like, It was something he'd learned form experience. Her eyes went wide and her gaze snapped momentarily to him then to the side as she tried to hide her shock. “What are you talking about?” She lied and he sat down heavily, bewildered. “Fuck... Marianne...” He whispered harshly and she startled again. “How... I never... Said my name...” She questioned softly, her face still stricken. “Been yer boyfriend's room mate for weeks, even if there were a few other names to sift through...” She covered the worst of it with her palm, eyes still impossibly wide. “I was... I was drunk...”

“But you remember?” He gestured in dismay as he pressed the issue, she shrunk away from him. It seemed so wrong to see her shrink like that. Like it should be against her nature to roll her shoulders in and pull her hands to her chest like that. “Yea...” Her voice timid as she admitted that. He sighed, holding a long arm out to her, palm up and expectant. She chewed her lip as she looked into his eyes, just standing there for a long moment. Finally she laid her hand in his and he pulled her gently towards him so he could look at the scratches. “Thank _god_ their not deep.” He grumbled to himself as he ran a gentle hand over her arm, holding it steady with the other hand. “And to think you got pissed at me for not re-bandaging muhself...” 

He looked up at her, she was... so much closer now and he had been the one to bring her that close. She blushed slightly and looked away. “Yea, real hypocritical of me.” He made a snap decision as he looked up to her. “I'll return yer offer... To listen listen and do muh damnedest not ta judge ya fer yer problems.” She slid her hand from him and stepped away. “It's just Roland. He... He's an asshole. Smacked me good, right across the face. Never been hit to be honest... not... like that. I've sparred and taken self defense classes... But I've never been hit like that. Hurts your soul worse than it hurts your body. To have someone you trusted... trusted with your _heart_ , and they _physically_ attack you...” She shook her head with a sigh, not looking at him, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked disgusted when she locked eyes with herself and he knew that feeling all too well.

“Ain't yer fault.” He offered softly. She scoffed, her eyes sliding over to his image in the mirror. “Of course it's not. But fuck me, this isn't as easy as _knowing_ it's not my fault. Try tellin my heart that it ain't my fault, because that's the part of me that's not with the program.” The disgust she felt boiled over into her voice, her eyes locking onto her own again, a distinct glower of hatred. Her hand came up and rested on the swath of bandage on her neck. “See ya later dude.” She spouted the sentence abruptly and fled the room leaving him thoroughly baffled and frustrated. She was perceptive. She knew what was wrong just not how to fix it, knew who was at fault and where the blame lay. She just didn't know how to lay her pain down. Not that he could blame her any. It's not like he was any better at it.

He tried to ignore the swirl of thoughts in his head and just get his work out done when a familiar blonde entered the room. “Roland...” He growled softly to himself when the other male met his gaze. “Hey _Bug_. Heard you been hangin out with Marianne... Back offa her. She's taken.” Bog rolled his eyes at the suggestion. “Not from what she said.” He didn't care to even bother denying the suggestion that he was chasing her skirt. An idiot like Roland wouldn't know the difference between a friendship and a courtship if it bit him in the dick. He nearly scoffed at his own mental phrasing, while Roland stalked closer. “Look here Cockroach! She's my fiance. You back the fuck up off her.” Bog stood with grace hidden by his long, lean limbs. “Touch her... an you'll be anserin ta me ya lavvy heid... Iffin she dunt hand ya yer manky arse afor I kin have a go...” A menacing grin grew on his face as he loomed over the far shorter male who looked up at him with disgust and a tiny mote of confusion. “The fuck is wrong with you? Don't you fuckin _get_ it?! She's fuckin _mine_!” Roland shoved the far taller man who rocked back a step and brought his hands up but made no moves to start the fight.

“Yer a right shite. Shove a man but hit a woman? Pissant.” Bog moved past and waved a dismissive hand at the male but kept his guard up. He was done with this bag of ego and shit. He showered off and headed to class, the whole bit of posturing having taken entirely too long. Sure enough, there she was, but today rather than take her usual spot at the front of class she sat back next to him, silence rained between them but she stayed there and they walked together to their next class, where she sat next to him again. “You hanging round me fer a reason?” He questioned, Midwestern accent firmly in place. She smiled softly, wearing a turtleneck shirt that covered most of her injuries. “I ducked into the women's room just as Roland came up and started making his demands. He's assuming that I'm with you and I'm happy to have him think that he's been replaced. Plus you're actually kinda nice when you stop being intentionally dickish.” He looked forward but let a small smile play on his lips. “I'm sure I dunno what yer talkin about.” That made her shy smile turn into a grin and he decided it was a good change. “I'm sure you don't.”

As they stepped out of the room together a blonde twat was standing on the other side of the hall. She turned cold and stiff but Roland just leered at her, he made no move to hamper them or to approach her. “Bug...” He said and Bog didn't turn. Marianne kept her head held high. “Darlin don't be like this... I'll even forgive you...” She turned on heel leaving Bog reeling at the sudden change in her direction. “Forgive me? _Forgive_ **me**?! Roland you colossal piece of unmitigated _sewage_! _You_ stay away from _Me_ or I swear on my mother's grave I will cut your bawls off and shove um so far down your throat you'll have to cough to rearrange yer self.” He put his hands up in mock surrender as she descended on him but when she went to jab her finger in his chest his amiable expression shifted to fury and he grabbed her hand. 

Turns out Marianne has a mean left hook. Turns out Roland is really resilient. Blood spilled from his busted lip and his perfect hair was askew but his eyes were wild as he turned back to her, recovering from his stumble. “I think that's a little far _buttercup_.” He hissed just loud enough for her to hear. His hand snapped out to her clothed neck and he purposely put pressure on the bandage, knowing exactly where it was. “An no amount of you coverin up will change who owns yer ass.”

There was fury in her face joined by pain as she slapped his hand away and escaped her ex. Bog watched her walk away as Roland straightened himself. “What'er you lookin at... _Bug_?” Bog grinned at him for a moment, accent forgotten without Marianne next to him. “Man who's lookin ta git 'is bawls cut off suh 'e kin eatum.” Bog flipped him off and walked, particularly casually, away. There was no shout, nothing but the sound of feet slapping on the floor before a shoulder hit him in the back of the legs, taking his knees out and sending his feet up over his head. There was a long moment for Bog of being air born, then his shoulder hit the linoleum and his head hit second as he pulled his arms up to try and protect himself and there was shouting and a body above him and then more pain as fists slammed against him. The long body curled protectively and there was a half second of nothing then a sharp kick to his side. He roared at the pain, snapping his arm around the leg as it tried to retreat and he pulled with all the might he could from the floor, sending his attacker to the floor only to realize there were four of them very suddenly.

He was distantly aware of a scream of fury like a cougar in a cage, feminine and feral, as he tried to get out from the other three attackers. Two, now there were two up and there was someone on the other downed one. One of them broke from him to save their friend and while the last one was distracted momentarily he put an elbow into that one's knee, taking his leg out and knocking him down onto his buddy. Then there were so many people, so many legs, someone was dragging him back, someone had their hand over top of the two that he'd knocked down and someone had the guy who'd broken away by the arm... 

But there was Marianne, Roland pinned beneath her, pummeling him while he had his hands up over his face. Someone managed to get her under the arms and rip her away as she screamed obscenities at him. Bog had calmed and the person holding him let go. He quickly put himself between Marianne and Roland who was being helped up. She tried to look around him to continue her abuse of her ex. She broke one arm free and he looked at the poor man trying to hold her. He was big but big wasn't going to keep her in check. Bog shouldered her waist and threw her over his shoulder as the big guy blinked and loosened his grip. She screamed at nothing, hitting Bog in the back as he carried her away over his shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And... Here we go... Are you ready for shit to really hit the fan? No? Sorry. XD

By the time he set her down, outside the building, she was sobbing. She clung to him and he pet her back. It was a bit awkward for him, he barely knew her really. Only really knew her name and who she was dating. They'd only just started talking even though their anonymity to each other and the strangeness of their meeting meant they knew things about each other that no other person knew. Stuff and Thang may have an idea that he cut but only she knew for sure and only she knew why. He knew something as well, much to her frustration no doubt. He'd seen her being nearly (could it really be called “nearly”?) raped by her boyfriend, who was a cheating piece of shit. 

He wrapped the sobbing female in his arms and squeezed her when she seemed comforted by the action. “Kin I...” He cleared his throat and got a handle on his accent. “Am I gonna have to put you back over my shoulder to get you back to your room safely?” He tried to joke and was rewarded by a sobbing guffaw. She reached up to her own face and tilted her head back to dry her eyes. She ended up smearing her makeup down the sides of her cheeks, making her face look even more bruised. Dragging her nails down the high collar of her shirt, she made a frustrated noise. She dipped her fingers up to the collar and ripped the bandage out. She finished by pressing the collar back up into her throat and discarding the (notably bloodless) bandage.

“I can walk.” She leaned into him and he wrapped his arm over her shoulder gently. She lead the way back to the dorm they both lived in. Heavy silence blanketed them, making him nervous but she seemed to be lost in thought and anger so he didn't try to talk to her. He didn't try to separate from her when she sent the elevator to one of the female only floors, the one just above the mixed gender floor. He let her lead all the way to her door where he stepped pointedly back from her to let her open her door. Seemingly without even thinking about it she turned and grabbed at him, catching her fingers in his belt and making his eyes widened. 

She didn't really see him at all, it seemed, as she drug him into her dorm room by his belt. She just drug him in, slammed the door then pushed him towards the bathroom. He actually started to protest as her room mate came out of their bedroom. “What the...” The room mate started and she spoke for the first time in a long time. “Roland happened Nora. My friend here got the worst of it cus Roland's a lunatic.” Bog blinked. Nora. That... was a freakish coincidence... “Marianne... You've got blood on your shirt...” Marianne blinked and let go of him to inspect herself. Sure enough, there was a drip from her nose on the shirt, and she growled angrily. Bog made the mistake of looking at her while she growled then suddenly in a flash of pink and maroon there was a hell of a lot more of her skin visible. “Fuck!” was all she said as she pushed past him into the bathroom and ran cold water. 

“Sit” Marianne commanded, still facing the mirror, and Nora looked up at him with an expectant look. Bog did as he was told, having seen how she reacted to someone in need of aid before. Once again he sat on the toilet and tried desperately not to look at her bra covered breasts. He was infinitely glad she wasn't wearing some beautiful lacy thing under her sweater, something that he could see her nipples through or that flirted at exposing her with cut outs and delicate edges. He looked up to her face, blood slowly dripped out of her nose and her makeup seemed to be hiding a blackening around her left eye. His eyes fell unwillingly down to a split in her lip that seemed to have been reoppened by the scuffle. There, when his eyes dipped to her lips something else caught his eye. Adhesive from the bandage that had caught fuzz to stick to her skin and a pair of semi circles. Two dark rows of small, straight, bruises in a half moon shape each, brown bleeding into her pale skin from each angry mark. “What the...” He questioned as he looked at it. 

His blood went cold. It looked like a bite. That was not a love bite. Not a sweet scraping of teeth that indicated someone in their passion getting too exuberant. No this was angry. There were a pair of scabs at the front teeth, or what he guessed was the front teeth, where the bite had actually broken her skin.

She seemed to see what he was looking at, agape, and growled, drawing his blue eyes up to her honey brown. She dabbed gently at his bleeding lip and checked the goose egg on his forehead. They both looked terrible but it didn't matter to him that he'd been punched. “What... Happened?!” He moved his eyes pointedly to her neck and she covered it with the hand that had been under his rough, sharp chin. “What do you think?” She glowered and continued her ministrations. Connections that seemed shaky before now were solidifying and it hurt every inch of him to think what he was thinking. “It... looks like you were... bitten.” She didn't meet his eyes, a cold kind of detachment to her face. 

“That's because it's what happened.” His heart sunk as his mind raced. Her room mate was named Nora. She was bitten... She had a guy she knew who cut and it was the room mate of her boyfriend. Marianne... Might be Summer Princess... And Marianne knew that he was in love with Princess... And that he cut himself because she had a boyfriend. But... Prin said the guy bit her... she hadn't told him she'd broken it off with her boyfriend... Maybe. Oh for the love of god and all that was holy please let his Tough Girl not be going through this. Please let Marianne not be... The woman he'd dreamed of. Let him be a liar when he told her he fantasized about her. For his own shattered heart let him be wrong.

“Roland?” She scoffed. “Who else would it be?” Then she cracked, her stoic face breaking into one of agony and frustration. “What do I do?” She whispered, clearly more to herself than to him. Blood from her nose dripped onto her breast and threatened her bra. He turned quickly, ripping off some toilet paper because it was close and put it to her breast. He was slapped awkwardly in the shoulder, the hand probably meant for his face, but he ignored it as he brought the paper to her nose, his other hand cupping her cheek gently to stop her from pulling back. “Yer bleedin...” He explained, his brogue slipping out from his tight control of his accent for just a split second. Her fingers slid swiftly along his to grip her nose and he let go when he was sure she had the paper held firmly to her nose. His fingers felt cold as he pulled his hands from her skin. She looked in the mirror and dabbed at her nose. “It's not bad... Just leaking...” She muttered to herself as she sniffled and clearly regretted the action, gagging as she apparently pulled bloody mucus into her throat.

“Marianne... Are... You gonna be ok?” He questioned and she hung her head. “I scratched myself on purpose.” She shuddered at her own quiet admission. “I almost found a knife. Before I went to bed... I was drunk... But... it sounded like a good idea at the time.” She growled at herself and looked up into her own bruised and bloodied face. “When did I become so weak?” He couldn't help but feel slightly insulted and she growled over his sharp intake of breath. “When did I let Roland break me down so far? And why did I _let_ him?” 

Fast as the crack of a whip, she snapped her head towards him, shock and worry on her face. “Oh god! I'm... You're miserable because of _me_... Roland's being terrible to you because of _me_! That was my fault!” She pointed to his arm where they both knew marks where hidden. Suddenly Nora was in the doorway and seemed to be hovering very close to Marianne. “Hey... There's... cops here... asking for you two... both of you...” Marianne's arms crossed her chest and she glanced at Nora with a look that said she was sure she was going to jail.

She pulled a towel down and Nora went into their room as Marianne walked awkwardly towards the couch where the police officer was standing. “Miss... If you need to put a shirt on...” He offered and she nodded soundlessly, heading back towards her room. “Sir, if you could please... My partner will take you out in the hall to take your statement?” Bog nodded numbly, following the other gentleman out. It was a good twenty minutes of explaining that he didn't start the fight and honestly he didn't even try to continue it he just was trying to get away. “And why did you leave the area?” He grit his teeth at the question. “She was distressed... Marianne was... She was upset with her ex, I knew she wouldn't calm down in there. He's hurt her... Badly. He _bit_ her yesterday... That's where the mark on her neck came from... And he _just_... he threatened her today... I told you he did. I needed to get her away from him.” Bog found himself frustrated with the situation. He tried not to make Marianne sound like a crazy woman. “And you're her new boyfriend?” The man asked and Bog's eyes grew wide at the implication. “No... No we just met not too long ago. We're friends.” The officer nodded with understanding.

The door opened and the officer from inside stood with Marianne on the couch behind him. They seemed to communicate silently to each other while getting everyone settled. They spoke quietly to each other after Bog to sat down on the couch. “Ok. I have to ask... Do either of you want to press charges? Of _any_ type?” His eyes rested heavily on Marianne. She whined softly and hung her head, resting it in her hands. “I'd like to just file the report and I'll just... If he tries to charge me then I have a statement...” She said it just barely loud enough for the cop to hear it and he repeated it back to her before they packed up. “I suggest you both stay away from him as much as possible and call _immediately_ if he approaches you again miss.” 

Nora looked on with worry as the cops started to dismiss themselves. “Marianne... Why the hell aren't you pressing charges? He _attacked_ you... _**twice**_!” The officer that had spoken with Marianne stopped and looked back between the two. “Today?” He questioned and the other one pressed his lips together in a grim line, already knowing. “No... Yesterday.” Marianne spoke quietly and he stepped back towards her. “Miss... Why didn't you call if he attacked you?” She groaned. “I hit him back...” The cop seemed to be mildly flustered, her head still hung. “Alright, do you want to report that incident too? It will help your case against him.” He offered and Marianne lifted her head slightly. “Yesterday he came into my room unannounced while I was chilling on the bed. Nora was out and he yelled at me. I told him to leave and he pinned me to the bed. He called me a whore... And pinned my arms... He bit me on my neck. Told me it was so I was _marked_... as _his_. I punched him... got him off me... and then he slapped me... Nora came in about then, yelled at him and he left...”

Bog's stomach rolled, he wanted to throw up. It was... it was so much the same, could he deny what was going on? That Marianne was probably Summer Princess? “I... was scared. Upset. I thought I'd made it clear to him that I wasn't his... That he has no claim to me, we're not dating. I guess I was wrong.” She said it as though she was adrift and speaking to nothing. Like no one else was in the room. He touched her arm, trying to comfort her and she jolted in shock. Looking over at him and his busted up face. He knew the bruises were probably coming in smashingly and undoubtedly were making his already unsightly face even worse but he couldn't help but frown at her, feeling a painful kinship to her, his tough girl...

No. She wasn't his. Even if she was Summer Princess, she wasn't his. He had no claims on her. He couldn't claim her even if he had the desire to. She was hurt, wounded, and the only thing he could be to her was a friend. And that's what he would be. A friend. She didn't need a knight in blackened armor to come and steal her away, claiming to want to protect her while he had such knowledge. Knowledge she was trying to hide from him, be that consciously or not. He certainly couldn't blame her. He hid his accent, he now felt the need to hide his name and his friends from her, knowing that if he introduced his friends as “Stuff and Thang” that she would clearly get the picture. Or maybe she'd deny like he had tried to do. Fuck, she'd tended the marks that he'd made because of her... She'd tried to heal the wound he took because he couldn't be with her... FUCK. She knew and didn't know... She said it would kill her if she found out. It'd kill her to know who he was. It was already hurting her to know him, to just exist around him. 

_Miss I need you to be frank with me. Was there any sex? Of any kind?_

A sudden pressure on his side woke him from his thoughts, Marianne was curled up on the couch, her knees pulled up and her body tipped against his side her arms covering her head and face. She was balled up like she was hiding as the cops looked down on her. “No! It wasn't just _rough_ sex... We didn't! We've _never_!” She shouted into her knees as she trembled. He'd missed what their question was and Nora looked a bit aghast as the cop tried to calm her again. “I'm sorry Miss Summers... it's just something I needed to know. If he'd forced copulation then we'd want to take you to the hospital if you were willing...” They were talking about... They'd asked her if Roland had... Bog wrapped his arm around her. 

There was the distant half memory of the cop asking her the question while he was lost in thought. He understood the question clinically but he couldn't help but mirror Nora's expression. “I don't think she's up for any more questions lads...” Bog said softly over her head as she turned into him like he was some good thing that would protect her, protect her more than the police standing there. The cop nodded in agreement. “Please Miss Summers. If he contacts you or you feel threatened by him in any way do not hesitate to call 911.” The cops left and Marianne just shook against his side as he looked blankly ahead, arm wrapped over her shuddering body.

Suddenly there was a hand, open and waiting to be shaken in his face. “Nora.” The room mate introduced herself and he reached out blankly to shake her hand. “Um... Bug...” Nora made a face of disgust. “You actually go by what _Roland_ calls you?” He shook his head to clear it. He could come up with a better name... “King. I go by BK sometimes... Big King... Cus... I'm big...” Here was a tiny huff of laughter under his arm at his befuddled half lie. “You are big...” And it was true that he was big and went by BK and some people used to call him King until he told them he preferred to just go by Bog... Just the meaning of BK being distorted to hide him... He'd have to talk to Thang. He was the one who called him BK the most... Theo and Steph... He'd have to call them normal people names around her... If that happened. He was getting ahead of himself. “King is way better. Short for Kingston?” He shrugged and she blinked at him. “Sorry. Not really with it... Did get bludgeoned in the head a bit...” Nora let out a short crisp laugh at that and pushed her large round glasses up her thin nose. He started to extract himself from Marianne but she clutched to his shirt when he shifted slightly.

~~

“You gonna be ok Marianne?” Marianne lifted her head and looked at the guy she was clinging to. King. Suddenly she realized that she was all but crawling into his lap and tried to politely move away. Unfortunately with her knees under her chin and her body shaking like it was she nearly flung herself off the couch. Nora tried to dive for her and King grabbed her, his half swollen face looking particularly concerned. “Woah! Slow down there...” He scolded gently, righting her on the couch with careful hands. “I won't do anythin to ya...” He offered quietly like she thought he was going to suddenly act like _Roland_. He was like the exact opposite of Roland. He may come off as prickly but he seemed to be very genuine, certainly sweet and he was imperfect. Honestly she loved that he was imperfect. After being around Roland and all of his fake perfection a bit of honesty went a hell of a long way for her. A long way to what she wasn't sure but it went a long way.

Something hit her brain suddenly. “King... you need a different room mate. Like now.” She said to the bewildered man. “Um... spose I do...” He hedged and she looked him over. “If you need to hide out from him...” She looked over at Nora who motioned for her to go ahead. “You can crash here until they fix the placement... Are they working on it already?” She questioned and he gave her a pained little grin. “They are... Yea. I'm... I'm getting a new roomie in like... two days. And thanks... but I have some friends next floor down I'm hanging with.” She blinked at him for a moment. “You... didn't leave any of your stuff where he could get it did you?” She questioned, not sure what he'd do with King's stuff but she knew if he did anything it would be undesirable. “I've got most my stuff out. All the really important shit. Just some clothes really is all that's left.” Marianne shook her head wildly. “No... You need _all_ your stuff out of there... now...” She tried to stand but her knees were locked up and she just ended up floundering with him pulling her back to him. “Hey, calm down. Not gonna do a lick a good fer ya ta put yer self on the floor...”

Marianne considered what he was saying. She was frazzled, she'd taken a few hits, she'd had to relive some of the worst moments of her life, and now she realized that she was making someone's life miserable just by having talked to them. At least King didn't seem to be particularly fazed. “If you need space to put your clothes...” She offered to him and he smiled a crooked smile, revealing his similarly crooked teeth. His voice was strange, if comforting, to her ears, his accent was... Off? Wrong? She couldn't quite place it but that didn't matter. He had a slightly strange way of talking and it was... Charming. He may not have been a beautiful man like Roland but he was certainly handsome in a more roman sort of way with his long slightly hooked nose and his strong, pointed jaw. “Thanks, might have ta take ya up on that...” He slowly extracted himself from her and stood. It'd been nice having him around. He felt safe, made her feel like she was safe. It was an odd thing to feel while Roland was threatening her. Oh how things had changed.

“I... probably need ta...” He made a gesture with his hands and she watched them, feeling herself tilt. He stopped suddenly, his brow furrowing. “Are you sure yer ok? Do ya need ta go to hospital?” Nora patted him and he blinked. “I've got her even if she's not. You go get your clothes out of there. No reason to give him anything to work with.” King nodded and bit his lip, looking back down at her. If she hadn't thought he was handsome before she certainly would have to now. Shame she was marked... It'd be nice if he could heal the mark, kiss it away or cover it with his own, the soft pressure of his lips erasing the pain... He'd be gentle with her wouldn't he? Oh she guessed he'd be soft and sweet, trying not to cause any more pain. 

Wait… what? Fuck of a time to start fantasizing! Here she was, balled up, on her couch, bruised and beaten, and she was having... what? Erotic daydreams?!

She needed away. Away from everyone. Away from the school. Away from Roland. Even away from King, just the fuck away. She shouldn't be thinking about King like that! She'd only just met him not too long ago. Just because they shared a kind of deeper understanding than she would have guessed wasn't a good reason for her to be like this. 

Something about him was just so fucking familiar. _The way his voice smoothed over her skin like a touch._ Stop. _The way he looked at her with so much concern._ Stop! _The way her skin felt when he touched her._ Dammit Stop! _That he didn't judge her when he'd found out any of this._ God dammit Marianne, stop this! _Well... he'd shown her how to stop it, hadn’t he?_ What?! _Just a bit more pain to focus on and she could ignore all those damning thoughts._ Oh fuck... _Nora would probably go to sleep first._ Please no. _And then she could talk to Bog for a bit._ Stop! _And she could apologize to Bog._

Marianne's heart stopped at the intrusive thought. Bog.

Nora walked back in to see her looking pale and of course Nora was worried but she was able to calm Nora down. They cooked together for once because Nora didn't seem to want her to be alone. She helped Nora with the dishes and they laughed about things while she put the knives away _and knew exactly where they were_. They watched a movie together before getting online to play a few rounds before Bog, Thang and Stuff inevitably got online. She was a perfect picture, bright and sunny, she'd chased all the dark clouds away and left only the sunshine and fluffy clouds while her soul withered for lack of rain. Some part of her knew she needed to be sad, to let this out instead of just ignoring all the dark clouds in her thoughts. The more she pushed back on the cold front in her mind the worse the storm was going to be. Stuff and Thang always went to bed first. Nora was next. Bog seemed like he needed to talk to her but she needed to explain to him even worse. 

“I never told you... It didn't happen that long ago but... I broke up with my boyfriend.” There was an inhalation, probably through his nose. “Roland was cheating on me...” It was at that moment she realized she'd never actually called Roland by his name with Bog. Why had she done that? Was it because she knew Roland wouldn't last. Maybe some part of her mind knew this whole time... Bog was very quiet on the other end. “To make matters worse... He doesn't seem to get it... That we're over.” There was a kitchen knife on the desk next to her. “And I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry... a new friend I've made... Um... He made me realize that I need to be more up front.” There was some kind of reserved sigh on the other side along with a small, questioning affirmative. “I'm not ok... right now...” Her voice quivered and she felt the blade against her palm, feeling the sharpness of it. “And I know... I know that it's probably upset you... hearing about the shit that's going on...” There was a kind of relief in his voice. “Course it does luv... Yer muh friend.. Ah dunt want ya sufferin an it feels like that's all her doin.”

She nodded to herself and gripped the handle. “Yea. So I'm sorry fer... Everything. I don't think it's a good idea for me to share the guild with you.” He came back sudden and shocked. “Wait.. Wut?” She could hear panic in his voice and tried to calm it. “I'm just not in a good place... Y'know? Got the cops called on me today because of Roland... I may not be around much.” She tried to explain away his worry but she could still hear it in his voice. She gripped the handle harder. _You're doing it again... hurting people._ “Hey... K'mon Tough girl... when ya git back... yer spot'll still be thar.” She smiled to herself. _He's too good for you_. Her smile fell. “You don't have to do that for me.” He was quick on the retort. “Ah know, Ah wan'ta.” Her grip shifted on the knife where it was pressed against her skin, threatening. “You... You're too nice to me. Bog... I'm just making everyone around me miserable.” His breath caught again and he denied it vehemently. “No! Ya dun't make meh miserable. Dun't talk like that! That time where ya weren't around were dark fer meh. I need ya...” He sounded so honest. So needy. The heartfelt plea _nearly_ made her remove the knife from her wrist. 

Knock knock.

~~

“The fuck?! Shit!” There was a knock on the door that had preceded her cursing though he wasn't sure why she was _that_ upset over visitors. Though it was awfully late for someone to come over. “Be right back Bog...” She assured him and then he heard what sounded almost like metal and wood being set on plastic. Her desk was one of those cheap but durable plastic ones with the metal folding legs. 

Marianne...  
Marianne knew he loved her.  
Marianne didn't know he loved her. 

She didn't know King was her long time friend Bog. Her voice brought him back. “What the!? YOU!” There was the sound of a hand hitting something solid, probably the door, and he was on his feet. He could hear her struggling and heard her scream. He heard a masculine grunt and the wet slap of flesh meeting flesh at speed. Then everything went silent except for a huffing noise and the door closing. He called out to her but heard Nora groggily question what was going on in the distance. Nora got more frantic. Bog didn't hear anything after that because he was already out the door running.

He took the stairs up two at a time. Everything was frighteningly quiet, only the sound of his own feet pounding up the stairs to the first female only floor. He _flew_ down the hallway and scrambled to a stop in front of Marianne and Nora's door, using the jamb to help stop himself. He could already hear Nora inside panicking. He tried the door, slamming it opened. “Nora?!” He bellowed it and she looked at him with a shell shocked expression then held out a knife with a glimmer of red on it. 

“Whare's Marianne!?” He bellowed it and she just looked at him like she was lost. He ripped through their apartment, yanking the door to the bedroom and the bath open without even bothering to knock. Nora finally spoke, voice quivering with terror. “She's not here...” Bog's blood ran cold and he looked both ways down the hall. The light colored, heavily stained carpet didn't hide a dark spot a few steps down the hall. Blood, someone had smeared it with a hasty foot. It was the opposite way he'd come up, stairs on either end of the corridor. It's the stairs he would have used had he still been in his old room. 

Bog ran again. Leaping down half a flight of stairs and stumbling around the corner to get to the next flight. He didn't bother to stop tumbling down the stairs until he got to his old floor. He was upsettingly sure he knew where to look first. He burst through the doors of his floor only to find most of the occupants of that floor and a few from the other floors, out and drunk. He had to push his way through what was probably a floor party to get to his room. As he reached his door he saw one of the TA's with shots in both hands, looking like he felt no pain. 

He tried the door, his door, and even though it was unlocked he couldn't get it opened. Someone had jammed something, it looked like the toe of a shoe, under the door. He was able to slam the door open enough that there was open air and he could hear a female voice inside, she sounded lost and upset. Bog angrily shouldered the door, forcing the shoe back enough for him to swiftly reach in and pull the sneaker out from under the door. He exploded past the door. He was tackled to the floor. Roland's three cronies were in there with them, two of them had him pinned under their weight while the third slammed and locked the door. The sound of drunken concern echoed in from outside the door.

Roland's voice pulled him out of the fight with the two mooks. The asshole was sitting on his bed, Marianne between his legs, her head pulled back, eyes wild and another bruise on her fucking face. There was a trail of red down her arm from her wrist where her arm was held suspended in the air mid way through some gesture. 

A knife was held sloppily to the base of her throat. 

A knife, one that Roland never should have had, _his_ knife.

Bog's knife had no business touching Marianne. Her hand that was up was trembling and her other hand was fisted against Roland's leg, what little he was wearing for pants wadded up in her fist. “Now there we go. You see what we're actually dealin with now don't ya? You stand up and walk back out or you sit there like a good little bug and watch, real quiet like.” Marianne's hand twitched towards him. “King...” Her voice was rough and quite, eyes connecting with his. “Oh ain't that a cute little pet name fer a guy you're _totally_ not fuckin. K'mon Marianne... All I want is my fair piece...” 

Roland nuzzled into the side of her head and one of his buddies made a soft noise of disgust. “Hey man... I'ma play some games in the other room... I ain't sittin round ta _watch_ ya do yer thang...” One of the others chuckled while the third agreed with the first. “I'll watch yer back man. I don't mind...” Bog spared that asshole a glance and saw his hungry gaze boring a hole in Marianne. Bog wanted to just lay waste to the two of them but he felt trapped. He'd fought his way up to his knees before he'd seen what was going on. Now that he'd seen he held his hands up as if in surrender, too terrified to move.

Roland trailed the knife down her body and she squeezed her eyes closed. Bog tensed as the tip of the blade pressed into her chest, threatening her skin. “Just relax baby...” Roland cooed and she seemed to force her hand to open against his leg, her whole body shaking with fine tremors as he held her head back by her hair. “You really need ta stop playin so hard ta git!” Roland admonished her and pressed the blade just a bit harder, making Bog jerk forward with a growl, trying to lunge from his kneeling position. “Ah aaah...” Roland purposefully drew a line on her with the sharp tip of the blade. Bog's eyes went wider, blue eyes trained on the red slowly dribbling down her chest as she tried not to hyperventilate. A sob ripped out of her and Bog had to think fast, just _had_ to.

“Pickin up muh scraps agin eh?” Bog said it with more force than needed, desperately trying to get Roland's attention off of her. Roland's eyes pulled up to Bog suddenly and Marianne's eyes flew open as she whispered the name she knew his face by. “What?” Bog huffed and tilted his head down, filling his voice with all the malice he felt for the man. “Aye. Susan... Now Marianne... Jus gotta find tha ones Ah warmed up? Manky git.” A fist came across his face and he laughed as he caught himself, both hands on the floor now.

“Cannea git yer own woman... Gotta try'n grab _mine_.” He growled into the carpet then looked up at Roland who's face was a mask of fury. Roland's buddy kicked him in the side and Marianne made a noise of rage. Bog tipped over onto the floor, retching emptily from the kick to the gut before recovering. “Guess yer not _enough_ on yer own.” Bog hissed out, eyes trained on Roland. 

It worked. 

Marianne grabbed the blade with her free hand and immediately elbowed Roland who threw her down, causing her to shriek in pain. Bog struggled up quickly, running on pure adrenaline and crashed against Roland. Marianne ran to the door but the asshole grabbed her up as more noise echoed around them. Bog and Roland wrestled on the bed, Bog trying to get the knife out of Roland's hand. Bog had leverage but Roland had a lower center of gravity and they were matched in rage if not in physical prowess. He didn't see Marianne manage to knee the fuck in the balls and unlock the door before anyone could get to her even though the two from the other room were quick to come out and see what was going on. One of the three cronies grabbed her and pulled her away but there was flashing red and blue on the blinds and the other slipped out, fleeing the scene and leaving the door open behind him.

Bog was pinned under Roland, having tried to yank the blade away and putting himself off balance. He still had Roland's wrist, held at bay above him. Then suddenly a malicious grin crossed the other males face and Roland just let go of the knife. Bog jerked and then bellowed in pain as the knife tipped into his shoulder. The blade hadn't gone particularly deep but it stuck in his shoulder, while Roland managed to land a pair of hits to Bog's head. Bog kneed Roland off of him and managed to rip the knife out of his shoulder, flinging it towards the wall where it buried it's self. 

He was vaguely aware of Marianne bellowing at her success. As Roland tried to get back up and beat on Bog there was a flash of woman that shoulder checked Roland into the far wall. She descended on Bog who flinched as she shrilled her fears at him. Marianne was suddenly wrapped around his head and shoulders, clutching him to her chest. There were voices everywhere, not that he could see much around her arms. He heard a cop demanding everyone stay where they were and Marianne held a hand over his shoulder, putting pressure on the wound. “Call a _fucking_ ambulance!” She shouted over his head and he lifted his head to look at her, trying to check her for any more damage, to be sure she wasn't bleeding too badly.

Suddenly she was screaming, trying to drag him closer, the cops were yelling and Roland was attacking him again. The cops drug him off of Bog and out into the hall where they cuffed him. After the cops started dragging Roland away all that filled Bog's ears were Marianne's sobs. Her whole body shook violently as she was wrapped around his head and chest. He tried to move, to wrap an arm around her, to find a way to comfort her but she had him in an iron grip. “Miss... Miss you're both bleeding...” She clutched to him covetously, nearly choking him, her eyes wild when the cop reached out for her. “Marianne... Let um lookit ya...” Bog pet her as well as he could, pulling on the tight, constricting arm, making her shaking limbs start to slacken. As she released him the cops edged in on them, trying to help as much as they could. 

“Sir, do you know where you are?” Bog looked up at them and he nodded. “Aye, muh room at the dorm... Look... She's been... beaten...” He tried to impress upon them how much she'd been through but they all seemed worried about the pair equally. He tried again to redirect them to her. “She's bleedin...” The cop who'd spoken and was finally able to pry her off of him and replace her hand with his own, glove covered one. “Yea, so are you buddy...” Another cop was talking to her. “Miss, can you tell me your name?” She nodded and tilted dangerously. “Marianne...” She responded to the officer who then immediately asked her where she was bleeding from and the woman held her injured left hand, ignoring the cut on her chest. Bog nearly got sick seeing all the blood pooled in her palm and all the red smeared along her arm. Today was sure he should be puking.

Everything went too slowly and way too fast. Very suddenly, there were paramedics in the room and he could see Nora outside the door talking with a cop. Marianne's pupils weren't responding like they wanted so she was going to the hospital and he had to get stitches in his shoulder. “Can... we go together?” Marianne asked and the paramedic and she kindly looked over at Bog then nodded. “If you're both ok with going together... We don't actually need to take you there in the ambulance if anyone can drive you but neither of you can drive... You have to go tonight...” Marianne nodded and the woman steadied her with a soft smile. One of the cops interjected gently. “We could work on their statements at the hospital if you need to get them moving...” 

Bog felt bandaged fingers rest on the back of his hand. “Nora can't...” Bog nodded and gave a heavy sigh. “Yea, just drive us... M' the only driver outa my friends.” He hung his head and growled out a few choice words, Marianne was very, very close to him, still sitting on Rolands bed. “What? What's the matter?” He growled softly again and sighed. “Nothin... Jus... dun't have the money fer a ride...” Which was true, neither he nor his mother had the money for him to be taking an ambulance. 

“Don't worry about it. There's a thing you can apply for that will cover medical bills of people who've been the victims of crimes.” Marianne spoke with wrote confidence. He looked at her with slight shock, cocking his head at her while a cop confirmed what she was saying. “How'd ya know that?” He questioned her as they rested on the gurneys in the ambulance. “Dad's a lawyer... He always told us there was no reason not to take an ambulance if we're really hurt or had been attacked.” She looked across at him and he couldn't help but look back at her. 

What a fucked up night. 

Suddenly she cocked her head at him. “How'd you know to come looking for me?” She questioned and he swallowed, looking down at his own, still bare, feet. “Any chance Ah kin plead tha fifth councilor?” He asked with a desperate half grin. She laughed softly but shook her head. “But this is my key question!” She tried to joke back but he just looked up at her, he knew his eyes showed how terribly the question scared him, how he didn't want the reality it brought. 

He watched her face fall for a moment as she tilted her head, once more questioning silently. Oblivious to the gravity of the situation, the one paramedic, spoke to him. “Your name?” Bog winced and looked up at the man. “Bogart Stroud.” Wasn't much point in hiding anymore. He'd been unable to keep his accent in check ever since he heard her scream over the headset, not that it'd been anything he'd been thinking about. She'd heard his name and she hadn't failed to notice that it was shocking that he'd known she needed him. Either she was going to put this together or he'd vastly overestimated her intelligence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... That happened... 
> 
> So... I know this is pretty heavy and I'm actually very nervous about this story. I will probably always be worried about posting things that include rape/attempted rape... Consent is something that really... It's such a mercurial thing while still being something so black and white. I know that doesn't make sense so...
> 
> This sorta happened to me in a much... MUCH lighter, smaller way. Roland is modeled after my 3 day boyfriend.
> 
> My one and only date with this guy ended with me calling my mom to pick me up after this guy negged, goaded and forced me round second base all while trying to drag me into more and more secluded places. I let him ignore my protests and let him (literally) force my hand.
> 
> Notice I say "let". It's really not accurate to suggest that being molested and made to touch someone against my will was something I "Let" happen but I still feel very much so that I did let it happen. I still frame it as me not being strong enough to tell him no more directly or to push back when this guy continued to ignore my quiet protests. Every inch I gave him he took 2 more. 
> 
> I now look back at that situation and am supremely thankful that I am a bullheaded bitch because had I been meeker I may have let him lead me out to the -fucking corn field- he wanted to take me out and show me. I know that had he gotten me to a place where people wouldn't have been able to hear me protest he would have continued to ignore my misgivings and probably would have raped me.
> 
> I did not -stop- this guy... but I sure as fuck didn't give him permission. Then the guy got all upset three days later when I broke up with him... So... Yea. Very much my inspiration for this Roland.
> 
> So that... Um... Wow... Share time much Lynn? I guess I just felt the need to justify how I wrote Marianne and Roland in this particular bit. *shrug* Just... You know. Consent is such a huge fucking deal yet it's such a flimsy thing, it's easily ignored and not just by the one who should be checking to see if they have it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well... you've suffered long enough. Extra long chapter (because I may be mean but I'm not mean enough to cut this chapter in two.)

Perhaps it was the simple fact that so much bullshit had happened but when King gave her that sad, wounded look as his only answer to her question, she couldn't quite wrap her brain around what was so painful. She had hoped he would expound on what he clearly expected her to understand. King had known that she was in trouble. Had he seen Roland dragging her? If he had, why had it taken him so long to jam the door back open? Had the party really held him up that long? No, she'd seen the desperation on his face, the fear and pain of _learning_ what was happening, that moment where the hope you had been wrong shattered into a million pieces. 

“King... What...” She blinked. His name was Bogart. What kind of name was Bogart. And when had he gotten an accent? He'd always sounded vaguely midwestern... Bug... Big King. BK... Bogart... Bog...” She could feel the knowledge dawning across her face as her eyes widened and she did her best for her jaw not to drop. “ _ **Bog**_?!” She questioned, still some part of her expecting her to be wrong. “Aye.” She watched his eyes as he waited, he was waiting for something. Distantly, indistinct as fog, she realized he was waiting for her to be angry at him or to scream.

She didn't scream, what she did was somehow worse. She vomited.

The two paramedics surrounded her, a new bevy of questions she couldn't answer as she choked. King was Bog... Bog King... _**Bog**_ had cut himself! Somehow her indiscretion that left a bleeding wound across her wrist seemed somehow worse. The marks on her arms felt even more hypocritical. After she'd told him how much it would hurt her to know her friend had turned to self harm? She bawled softly, face turned from him, her whole body washed with cloying shame. It didn't matter that the paramedics were becoming frantic with her sudden refusal to respond. She didn't want their help. She just wanted to die, right there. 

Her Bog... He was so wounded, so hurt. And it was _her fault_. So much of the troubles in his life were from her! The terrible room mate was her boyfriend... who knew, he might have complained about her and she never would have known. A sudden thought flickered through her mind as she felt the ambulance stop. “How long?” She asked as the medics moved out from between them to reveal he was laying there, looking up at the roof of the vehicle. 

“Dinnea know fer sure till tanight at yeh were muh Princess. But when _Marianne_ introduced meh ta Nora... Got a fair picture a whut were...” He finally looked over at her, the medics being rather sweet in not removing them immediately. “Ah swar Ah dinnea kno when we met...” His gurney rocked down and they were both removed from the ambulance. They were placed near each other and neither really said anything. He'd called her “my” Princess. Her online persona... And damn her if she didn't think of his online persona as “her” Bog. 

Now, she had the terrible knowledge that _he_ was TheBogKing, the too tall, confused man who had the misfortune of knowing one Marianne Summers and her psycho ex. She gave her statements as well as she could, but she was distracted. Her mind floated to the other side of the curtain where a long, quiet body fought against writhing. She knew they were trying to stitch him up, they'd numbed the skin but she still was able to see his feet thrash occasionally. “And then Miss?” Marianne looked back up at the cop. “Then I shoulder checked Roland away from Bog. I had to get him away from Bog... He'd stabbed him... I was... I was sure he'd kill Bog...” She was answered with a nod and she continued. “Then you guys showed up... I had gotten to Bog and was trying to protect him, fat lot of good it did him...”

They thanked her and then went to the other side of that curtain to talk to Bog who'd stopped thrashing and the Doctor had come around to her. They'd bandaged her wrist, it was just a glancing wound. The one on her chest was packed as well. It would be her turn for stitches on her hand shortly as the doctor got the anesthetic. “Well Miss the good news is, it looks way worse than it is. We're going to use liquid stitches on the tail, and you'll only need about five stitches on the deeper end. No tendon damage...” The worst of the slice had been on the meaty edge of her palm, she couldn't explain how or why that was the worst of it. She had minor scratches on the other side of where she'd gripped the knife but luckily it seemed it was only sharpened on one side. The doctor continued conversationally. “We could probably go as few as three but I'd much rather too many over not enough.” She nodded like a hollow little doll, bobbing her head in agreement. 

Everything had just hollowed her out today. Even Bog. Learning who he was made her feel just as hollow as knowing that Roland was so unhinged. Not because she was mad at him, no she wasn't mad at Bog. It was just so... Bog was there, her friend was there and she hadn't even known. She hadn't recognized his voice, she talked with him constantly and she just... never noticed his voice. Yea he was covering his accent, but Bog had told her before that he got bullied as a kid for sounding funny. It was now clear to her that he was still getting crap for everything from his height down, why wouldn't he hide his accent? And it wasn't like he was _just_ hiding it from her. When he spoke to other students in class, or if he asked a question in lecture he had this weird almost midwestern accent. 

To know, that she could have seen him, hugged him, hung out with him? It was almost too much to bear, every complaint about a room mate was Roland, every day she wished she could hug him or comfort him she could have, he was just two floors away, hiding from her asshole boyfriend. Even as the doctor stitched up her hand and she could feel the stomach gripping feeling of her skin being pulled at even if she really didn't feel much in the way of pain from it, her mind still roved over why she felt so hollow.

Her father showed up and she saw a tiny, if broad, red headed woman charge Bog. What did she tell her dad? Yea that guy I've been with for ages? The one you loved like he was your own son? Yea he just tried to rape and or kill me, he's probably going to jail, he's the one who hurt me. _And_ that guy you thought was a creeper? The one from the internet that you swore up and down would only hurt me and I should never let him know where I live and should never meet him? Yea, he got stabbed while trying to save me from your golden boy. He's been the kindest person I've known and now I might have fucked everything up between he and I. Her dad hugged her, he whispered apologies and platitudes. She would be ok, he was there for her, she didn't have to worry. Because clearly there was nothing for her to worry about, _Daddy_ would fix things for her.

“Dad... I'm... really... painfully tired right now. I just... I wanna sleep. They're gonna keep me for observation and...” A voice from the other side of the curtain interrupted her as it shouted “what” and she could hear Bog trying to shush the redheaded woman. “Mum! Please!” He hissed softly but clearly. Her father drew her attention back with a hand on her arm. “Alright hun, I understand. I'm gonna stay until they get you in a room, then I'll go home ok?” She nodded tearfully and smiled. “I need a coffee though, I'll be right back Marianne hunny...” She nodded again and laid her head back. 

The woman over with Bog continued to be just a bit too loud. “Really?! Bogart Stroud! Ye're not lying ta me to git outa trouble fer rough housing are ya?” She couldn't help the slight giggle at the very motherly tone the woman had and how she said his name. Though the idea that Bog getting stabbed was him “rough housing” was vaguely disturbing. “Ma! Please... She's right thar...” Marianne heard the chair scrape back followed immediately by his hushed denials and refusals. The woman tried to covertly peek around the edge of the curtain, failing miserably since Marianne was well aware of their conversation.

“Oh my goodness! Poor wee fairy!” She gasped as Marianne used her left hand to wave at the woman, bandages and all, being it was the one without an iv in it. A tiny tired smile graced her face at the woman's immediate horror and waited for the woman to realize she probably shouldn't be looking into other patients little domains. “Muther! Yer..! Stap!” The mother turned back to Bog in his desperation and Marianne giggled again at their interactions. “It's ok Bog... I don't mind that much, I kinda wanted to show my dad who saved me anyway...” 

The older woman's face lit with glee, her mouth spreading in an almost comically large grin. She quickly moved the curtain out of the way between the two beds, the space between them like a great gulf for Marianne even if it was less than ten feet. Bog's mother was squat, looking like she'd already lost a few inches to age, with a halo of red hair and dark, warm eyes. Though that wasn't what drew Marianne's attention most prominently. Poor Bog's face. He was so swollen and bruised, she probably wasn't much better after having taken another hit to the head but still. “Marianne... This is my muther... Griselda Stroud.” Griselda shuffled over to Marianne and gripped her undamaged hand, a delicate but firm hold that was mindful of the iv while still being excitable.

“Oh my goodness you poor... We'll have to find you a comb dear...” The slightly insensitive words were spoken with the utmost sweetness, as the woman brushed a bit of her hair back. Bog's free hand flew to his face, slamming into his forehead and making him groan in both the pain of jarring himself in the head and the disbelief that his mother would say such a thing to a woman in a hospital bed. “BOGART KING STROUD! Yer brains'er rattled enough ya dobber!” She snapped, clearly angry that he'd struck his poor head. Griselda snapped her head back towards the injured girl and began to cluck over her. “Oh luv! Don't worry a lick you're still pretty as a picture under all those bruises...” Marianne smiled and closed her eyes, shaking her head. “MUM!” Bog was clearly desperate to dissuade his mother from insulting his friend anymore.

“I'm lucking to have a friend like your son Mrs Stroud...” Marianne started, making Bog nearly choke on his tongue. “Griselda dear.” Marianne nodded and smiled a tiny bit wider. “Griselda... He's a very good friend. I'm really not sure what would have happened had I not befriended him. With everything that's happened... I'm absolutely sure I would be at best in worse shape, and at worst...” Griselda cut her off with a rather trembling shake of her head before bowling over the next words Marianne would have said. “Oh dear that's just his way.” Marianne sighed, feeling the weight of the day rather keenly, and the weight of the painkillers just as heavily. “Lay back... My boy said your name is Marianne... What a pretty name. Why don't you lay your head down. I'm sure your father... That was your father right? He'll be back in just a second hun.” Griselda took it upon herself to make sure the pillow was in the right spot and that Marianne didn't wince laying back. 

~~

Mr Summers was back with a coffee in hand only moments later as Griselda made poor Bog wish she hadn't come. His face showed total shock at the other curtain being drawn back. “Oh hey daddy...” Marianne said drowsily. “Marianne... What...” Marianne flapped her injured hand at him. “Daddy... This is Bog. He's my friend. He's the one that stopped Roland from hurting me any worse...” The round man stood straighter, his eyes flipping from one hospital bed to the other. Finally he looked to Griselda as though for permission to approach and when she smiled at him from her chair next to Bog's feet he walked over to the nearest place to set the coffee down and made a bee line for Bog. “Thank you, young man. Thank you very... Very much.” Bog was shocked to have a hand thrust at him, open and asking to be shaken. He reached out carefully to grip the older man's hand and was shocked at how much bigger his hands were than Marianne's father's hands. 

“It's no.. Thars nothin ta thank me fer...” Bog started to deflect but the man's eyes filled with tears and he shook his head in a sharp snap of denial. “No. Young man I'm a lawyer... There is _everything_ to thank you for. You've saved my little girls life.” The older male released Bogs hand and turned back to his daughter, walking slowly back over to her. “You'd think that I would be able to identify those sorts of people by now but I suppose... I suppose I never thought about it.” He leaned over and kissed Marianne's head, mindful of his leaning over her. Bog suddenly realized that Marianne had fallen asleep some how, probably passing out with relief. “And to think I got mad at her when I found out from her sister that she'd broken her engagement off after only a few days after announcing it...” The older man spoke with so much shame in himself, watching his daughter drift in sleep. His mother interrupted him watching the older man. “Do ya know if there gonna keep ya hun?” He shook his head gingerly. “Not plannin to sa'far'iz I know...”

She looked thoughtfully over towards the older man, Marianne's father who took up a post on Marianne's other side. His eyes drifted to the other bed as well, Marianne lay bonelessly in the bed, her lips parted slightly, one lip fat and bandages everywhere on her. His mother's voice brought him out of his study of Marianne's face. “Maybe you should get sum rest while ya can?” He knew her tone intended for him to answer yes to that question. “Dun't know Ma... Kinda dun't wanna sleep till I git home...” She huffed irritably and then bit her lip. 

“Do you have clothes to change into? You don't do you? Where do I go to get your clothes hun? You know I'll never be able to find a store with your size in it this late...” The words were a tumbled mass falling around Bog. “I kin call Stuff er Thang... Onea them kin prolly meet ya at the dorm wit a seta my clothes...” She nodded then proceeded to immediately look back over to Mr. Summers. “Do you want me to grab some clothes for Marianne while I'm there? Bogart and she live in the same complex...” Mr. Summers looked shocked at best, but whatever it was he was thinking was locked behind his eyes. 

“If you're already making the trip, I couldn't ask you to make a trip special for us...” She made her usual noise of dismissal. “Oh it's no problem. Bog, my boy. Get yer friends on the phone an git clothes fer the pair of ya together. An _don't_ forget underwear! Fer botha ya!” Bog couldn't stop himself from rubbing the bridge of his nose with his frustration. Yea because he was going to _forget_ underwear. His mother passed him his phone and he called Marianne's phone first, guessing easily that it was back at her dorm room. 

He guessed right and was soon greeted by a shocked voice. “Hello?” He sighed and answered. “Nora, It's me... King? Kin... Kin ya git an outfit tagether fer Marianne fer me? OUCH! Ma! Dun't fergit underwear... Please...” He knew the wince from his mothers strike and the embarrassment carried in his voice. There was an unimpressed voice that responded to him. “I really can't believe you.” He startled suddenly, making an unintelligent noise of question. “Rather _convenient_ isn't it? That you knew something was going on, _King_.” He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off. “I'm so furious with you! BK? You couldn't come up with a more original name than _King_?!?! Had you not even thought about that lie before you said it? Bog! How did you expect to keep her in the dark? Oh god you've told her right? If you haven't told her I will grow wings and _fly_ down there to kill you...” He sputtered, confused. “Wut in... Woman what'er ya on bout? When'd ya find out?” 

He knew his mother was watching him with exasperated, impatient eyes. “Oh come on. Stuff and Thang are here! I share classes with them! It took ten minutes of talking with Thang to realize we were all from the guild!” Bog sighed heavily. “She knows... But Ah jus learned 'at she were... _Her_... today!” He could hear Nora angrily rummaging and muttering to herself. “I don't know how that is even _possible_.” He sighed. “Nora... Please... Ya gittin clothes fer her?” She growled a response, snappish at best. “Of _course_ I'm getting her stuff together. What kind of a room mate would I be if I didn't get her clothes while she was in the _hospital_?!” 

He stopped her suddenly. “Mum is gonna be headin that way right now... Ya dun't have ta come yerself... an you wouldna beable ta see 'er anyway. There keepin er.” Griselda stood and adjusted her purse on her shoulder, giving him a gentle kiss on the head and making a few hand motions he assumed meant she was going to be back in a few. He nodded to his mom and waved her away. “Ok... well... How will I know her?” He smiled to himself. “Wull I'm bout ta call Stuff ta git meh sum clothes... so she kin introduce ya...”

The conversation was curtailed and he called Stuff, which was much quicker and louder still than his conversation with Nora. Stuff apparently hadn't heard any of the sirens or the noise so she'd been dead asleep even with him tearing out of the apartment. He did manage to keep _his_ voice down, even when asking Stuff about the fact that Nora informed him that the three of them knew Marianne was Princess. “Well... Honestly Bog... You're so down about your looks, and you always hide your accent out on campus... We told Nora you probably didn't want anyone to know, probably didn't want Princess knowing. You've even said that if she saw you she'd probably stop hanging out with you...” 

He massaged the bridge of his nose as Stuff continued. “And we've never heard her give any identifying details that weren't immediately obvious like Nora being her room mate... So we guessed she was shy.” He sighed heavily at that idea. “You mean ta tell me... Ya thought Marianne... _Marianne_! Was _shy_?” Stuff managed to deflect his question. “Oh! I see your mom's here... Griselda! Hey! I gotta go... Bye!” He set his phone down, glad to be off it but when he looked back up he noticed the curtain still open and Marianne's father watching him intently. 

“Sorry, couldn't help but overhear...” Bog gave a rueful chuckle at that, yea, his conversations were pretty hard to miss. “Marianne used to tell me all about her online friendships... Years ago. I was so happy when she stopped playing those silly games.” Bog's face fell, ready to get defensive. Mr. Summers sighed heavily, watching his sleeping daughter again. “So she didn't even know? Who you were that is... You gave your name as “King” to that friend...” Bog hung his head, how many people was he going to have to explain himself to today? “Aye. Marianne an I never exchanged real names online... Never told tha other where we went ta school or even what state we were in. Dun't even know if she realized I were in the states...” He cut his ramble off and got back to the topic at hand. “Weren't till today I knew fer sure... This mornin Marianne an I were talkin an Roland decided ta be a bampot... too many things started linin' up. I'd hoped... Even before I knew who she were I had ta keep... Roland belongs in jail sir. I'd rather not think on the times I've pulled him offa her. Even affor we became friends at school.” 

Bog still couldn't erase that first image from his mind, the one where Roland had his hands on her, pinned under him and ignoring her begging him to stop, trying to reason with him. He remembers all too well how much lighter Roland felt when Bog had been pulling the man off of some random girl. “Young man, my daughter will not want me to ask her what happened. I know her too well. Will you tell me? How many times you've... Intervened on her behalf?” Bog shrugged not sure what to say. “Iffin she dun't wanna tell ya...” Mr Summers gave an unamused smile. “Young man, like I said, I'm a lawyer. She won't tell me but she knows I'll find out. I found out she was in the hospital because I got a call from police letting me know she was attacked. I'll have access to the case file before the end of the _week_... Please...” Bog laid back. “Three times... Ah think... Twice yer gonna git from tha reports...Yesterday an tanight.”

Bog took a deep steadying breath. What he had to do next wasn't going to make the father happy, and the other option would betray what little trust Marianne might still have in him. “Tha other time were earlier in tha year. Before I knew 'er name. An _I_ won't tell ya bout _that_ day. That's...” He sighed and looked away from the quickly enraging old man. “It's hers ta say iffin she wants ta share what happened.” Bog guessed the screaming and rage would come along shortly but the old man just sat there, looking quite angry from what Bog could see out the corner of his eye. 

“Alright. Was she injured? Were the police called?” Bog just slid his eyes over to the old man and then back to his feet. This was a game he wasn't willing to play. “I can get a court order if need be.” The old man threatened quietly. “Oh, what'er muh charges?” Bog challenged with a quiet snarl. For some reason that seemed to please the old man, not even in a smug kind of way. “Fine. But understand that I'll probably be able to find out on my own...” Bog snapped back again. “Then do 'at. Tryin ta intimidate me isn't gonna git ya nuthin ya want.” 

There was a soft harumph from the old man and a noise from the bed. “Dad... Are... Are you seriously threatening Bog?” The old mans eyes snapped to his daughter and he tried to obfuscate what had just happened. “You were! DAD! How could you! Bog! What was he...” She finally looked over at him and saw how crumpled he was. “Bog?” He sighed and closed his eyes. The day her father was asking about played over in his head. Every permutation raking across his agonized mind. He should have stayed to be sure she was ok. If he had known her he could have tried to warn her. Maybe it would have helped... Maybe he could have saved her some of those bruises. Like the one on her neck.

“Bogart!!” His head snapped up when he heard his name in an authoritative voice. Marianne had a look on her face like she was really close to climb out of her bed and come over to him. “Aye?” He questioned and she huffed sadly at him. “Bog... Please... What's going on? Why... are you making that face?” When he glanced at her father then looked away again she suddenly flipped the blankets off her legs and her father was shouting. “Marianne! Your IV!” Bog was just as quick. “Stop!! Tough girl... Stop...” She stopped, her legs already on the floor and her hand poised over the IV, ready to... _rip it out_?! Her father was panicking and Bog's long arms could nearly reach across the gap. A nurse scuttling in to see what was going on and Marianne's head snapped towards the immediately shrill nurse. “I have to pee.” The girl said unconvincingly and the nurse huffed angrily at her. “That! Is what the _call button_ is for!”

Marianne was whisked off, her slim frame covered by two gowns, socks put on her feet. The nurse had drawn the curtain and saved Bog from the face her father was making, like he'd somehow made Marianne behave that way. Like that was some kind of strange anomaly in her behavior. As if he had that kind of sway over her. It wasn't long till he got his IV taken out and his mother showed up, all of that happening before Marianne even came back from the bathroom. He'd pulled his pants up but hadn't buttoned them yet when he heard her voice. “Are you still there?” The tiniest bit of a smile curled his lips. “Aye, Still here.” 

He wasn't expecting her to slip in past the curtain suddenly while he straightened out the t shirt he was about to put on. Her eyes danced across his body, from his hips that his pants slung low over where he had a bruise from hitting the floor to his slim waist where there was a fairly defined toe shaped bruise, to his broad chest where there were several bruises blooming across his ribs, and finally resting on the shoulder where stitches now decorated him. He cleared his throat trying to shake off the immediate freeze he felt at her viewing him like he was. Glassy amber connected with his eyes.

“You're leaving?” He curled his shoulders in, covering himself slightly with his shirt. “Um... Yes...” He hunched slightly and she reached out to him, his automatic response to let her touch him. Her hand slid up his arm and rested on the marks at the top of his bicep, her thumb rubbing gently across the scars. “If I don't get out tomorrow? Can you come visit?” She questioned softly and he sighed, thinking to himself that she could have spared herself the sight if she just waited. She gripped his arm gently, her eyes pleading. “I kin do that fer ya... D'ya want me ta bring Nora?” She shook her head. “Just you. What was my dad on about?” He sighed and twisted his wrist, bringing her attention to the shirt in his hand. “Kin... We talk bout this when ahm _dressed_?” He wasn't sure what that look on her face was but she looked down at his chest, so close to herself and bit her lip. She nodded and let her fingers slide down his arm, leaving goosebumps in her wake as she slipped back out and over into her bed.

Watching her walk out hurt. He nearly crumpled further at her walking away from him. Why the fuck did that hurt like that? _Fuck my head. Fuck my heart. Just fuck me._ He had no place falling in love with her but damn him, he already had. Years ago he fell in love with something he couldn't touch. Now, that thing, that person, they were reality, and they were right there. Battered and bruised, broken but strong, she was right the fuck there. And there was no way he could actually bring himself to stop, he just had to wait for her to break his heart. Then he could just die. That'd be ok. 

Once he was dressed he stuck around, checking on Marianne again, holding her hand for a while since her father was infuriating her with questions, and saving him from having to finish that conversation. When they announced they were going to take her to her room she bid a quick farewell to her father but she kept a grip on him, her fingers refusing to let him go. He watched her father walk away with a final wave, now he was out of ear shot and she spoke. 

“They're gonna let you follow me to my room.” 

He blinked, he was pretty sure that wasn't normal. And sure enough, he was allowed to follow, and they didn't chase him out, or even question him after they had her settled. “How'd you get them to let me come up?” He questioned when it was obvious she was far too awake after the hissing argument with her father. She blushed and he couldn't help but be shocked that he could notice the darkened cheeks with all the bruises on her face. “Told them what happened and that I'm kinda freakin out about you not being here. Then the nurse winked at me and asked if you were my fiance...” He blinked. She'd lied to get him up there. She sent her father home and asked for him to stay. “And they believed you? That someone as beautiful as you would be with _me_?” He didn't know if he should be this incredulous, but he was. What chance did an ugly mug like his have of attracting someone as beautiful as her?

Marianne seemed hurt, turning away from him. She was silent for a long moment. “I don't see why... I don't think there's any reason to disbelieve me based on either of our looks. Anyway. She knew it was a lie...” She was soft and sad. Like there was something sad about it being a lie. His mother had brought back his car with some covert help from Thang when she came back. He'd be able to drive himself when he left. The only reason Thang hadn't driven them to hospital was because Thang got too nervous around cops due to his lack of license, and there were a hell of a lot of cops when they were driven to hospital. He could stay as long as she wanted him to. He let go of her hand. He should leave though. He shouldn't stay. She made a tiny distressed noise as he stepped away from the bed. 

Bog pushed a recliner over to the edge of the bed and plopped his entirely too long body down on it, reaching up to rest his one arm on the bed, not crowding her. “I'll leave when ya kick me out.” He offered and her face lit up, shining like the moon in the dim room. He knew she was tired and forcing herself to stay awake so he got himself comfortable. She laid her hand so her pinky touched the edge of his arm and settled herself in while he kicked the foot of the recliner out and tried to ignore how far his feet hung off.

~~

Marianne was shocked she slept as much as she did. She hadn't known if she'd be able to sleep at all to be honest. She'd worried and fretted so much the night before about if Bog could get home ok and if he would be upset enough to cut or if one of Roland's buddies would take it upon themselves to do something because she didn't know if they went to jail or if they were going to make bail. Or worse yet if Roland was going to be able to shmooze his way into a bond hearing and get out. She hoped the answer was no, but she wasn't sure. Just the idea that Roland existed now made her feel a bit... unprotected. With Bog around she felt like she had a small pack, they would watch each others backs, and both would be safer for it. Like they did last night and yesterday, her protecting him and him protecting her. Felt like he was protecting her a hell of a lot more than the other way around though.

It was early morning and Bog's arm was still on the bed, he was snoring softly, head tipped back and jaw hanging open. There was something so _fucking_ adorable about him like that. She knew he felt ugly, she'd heard that entirely too many times. But maybe her view point was skewed. Yes, he wasn't _beautiful_ like Roland, but you couldn't really judge Bog by Roland standards. Roland was vaguely effeminate, something she was careful not to suggest while she was dating him. Bog was... Bog was all man. 

Seeing him topless, pants unbuttoned and hanging open to reveal his black boxers in his little curtained alcove was absolute torture. Her father was just on the other side of the fabric so it wasn't like she could tell Bog how great of a job he'd done on his body, or put her hands on that thin trail of hair under his belly button. She knew he worked out and always assumed that was all there was to it. Most guys would show off a six or eight pack but he just, hid that away. Like there was not something deliciously enticing about him. She'd thought him reasonably handsome before but now... 

If she was honest with herself she wanted to see where that little trail of dark hair below his perfect, shallow, navel went. Some dirty, stupid little part of her head desperately wished he had been facing the other way when she stepped in so she could have gotten to see if his back was just as delicious. Roland was never shy about taking his shirt off, she'd seen him front and back, he had lovely definition, yet he wasn't nearly as impressive as Bog. Not because Bog was huge or ripped but because Bog filled out his own skin just right. Bog matched where Roland, he didn't, his pretty little face seemed out of place on his overly chiseled body. 

As Bog laid there she realized there was one other thing that Roland lacked that Bog had and she found particularly attractive. Bog had a long, slender neck that swept rather gracefully to his shoulders, the cords of his throat strung in an enticing “V” down to his collar. She wanted to reach over and run her fingers down the side of his throat, see how he reacted. Maybe even kiss him just there, just under his chin and slightly to the side, so she could run her teeth over his pulse. Taste him and feel his reaction in her lips. _Stop it! Fuckin hell! Down girl_... Roland had a thick, stubby neck. She'd never really realized how attractive a throat could really be. As Bog swallowed in his sleep she watched his Adams apple bob with a hunger that was lower than her stomach, and was wholly inappropriate for a “friend” to feel. 

She'd never really, _truly_ , been tempted to go to bed with Roland. Sticking to her guns about wanting to wait till marriage with Roland was simple, she just had to fend _him_ off. It'd never been a fight for her, she'd never been terribly tempted to break that promise to herself. Now she wondered if some part of her knew he had been unfaithful this whole time. It wasn't like there was anything other than pride keeping her to that arbitrary event... If she thought about it, he'd been very calloused most of their relationship, especially once he was in college. In high school he always drove her to their dates, but then if she wanted to leave they couldn't until he was ready. Then suddenly she was supposed to come to him when he went to college. Then when she joined, well, he'd get frustrated with her if she showed up at his room when he hadn't called her to him, she was supposed to meet him after her classes but he was never waiting for her after hers. He was rarely available for her when she needed someone. These things had become extremely evident with her lack of Roland and the addition of Bog.

Bog was... present. Not just because he had classes with her but once they'd become friends, once she and “King” stopped hating each other, he'd just... been there. There was a strange sense of silent support from him. And of course _Bog_ himself, the person he was online mimicked that real life presence so perfectly. It was a wonder she hadn't seen through him sooner. God! Stuff and Thang lived in her fucking dorm! She could go hang with Stuff! She could try Thang’s cooking! Uggh! Later, she'd deal with that later. Even Bog's lies had been less for self interest and more for fear. Bog had told her, several times in fact, that he had been teased all through high school, years past he even did several “dialect” impressions that he'd been honing and at the time they'd been terrible, his brogue slipping through easily. Not to mention his firm insistence that she didn't want to _see_ him, it had all played into a mask for him to hide behind, to be _safe_ behind as opposed to obscure himself from her. Not like Roland. Roland intentionally kept her in the dark, kept her stupid and weak. Intention of a lie could easily mean as much as the lie it's self, and Bog's intention had been self preservation, not self interest.

Marianne relaxed back into the bedding, his arm still, shockingly, resting on her bed. Delicately she ran her fingers over the back of his bandaged knuckles and found his hand to be cold. Watching his face for a moment when he snorted, trying desperately not to laugh at the adorable noise, she carefully slid her fingers around his hand and pulled it under the blankets, praying he wouldn't wake. He didn't, just groaned then shuddered. She laid her head back down, curled around his slowly warming arm, she fell back asleep.

~~ 

Bog woke stiff to the sound of the nurse cheerfully announcing herself. His shoulder ached and he realized suddenly that his hand was warm, gripped pleasantly tightly. There was a yawn from the bed and he felt the intake of air and lips against the back of his hand, muffling the noise. Blinking up at where the appendage disappeared over the edge of the bed Bog's mind was unable to really figure out what he was feeling. The nurse chattered happily at the contents of the bed. 

“Well dear, the doctor says you should be good to go. We're gonna have a look at you, all your injuries before we let you go and check on that concussion of yours, you're in college right? Well concussions are difficult to heal from sometimes. You need to let your mind rest like you would a muscle.” Bog blinked at the nurse as she explained brain injuries. His brain currently unable or unwilling to wrap around who she was talking to, the person holding his hand. There were two hands holding his now, they were clutching his hand now. Once laced between his fingers, palm to palm, fingers from the other hand danced sweetly against his wrist, tracing the tendons and caressing the smooth skin ticklishly. 

“Try not to do things that strain your eyes, take lots of naps, don't over work your brain. We'll give you a two day excuse from classes...” His eyes slowly drifted over to her, to Marianne, where she lay on the bed. He studied her profile as she nodded along to the nurse, taking the instruction with ease.

“It's best if you don't drive. Is your fiance going to be able to take you home?” Bog clutched her hand involuntarily at the mention of a fiance, feeling viciously protective of the woman and knowing how close she was to actually marrying Roland from their online conversations. “I think so...” Her voice was so soft and timid, she squeezed his hand back before turning to look at him, as though she was waiting for _his_ answer. Oh right, he was pretending... _He_ was the fiance... _There_ was a fantasy and a half... “Ah should be fine ta take 'er home.” He neither confirmed nor denied the claim of him being her fiance, just tried to calm his blood pressure. 

The older woman smiled down at him. “Are you going to need any time off class? We could just as easily write you up a doctors note...” He looked to Marianne who's eyes pleaded with him, a shocking development for him, but perhaps it should have come as no shock at all. She'd already asked for him to stay in the hospital. He was her security blanket, her shield. “Aye. Least fer taday...” The smile he got back was sheepish but warm. The nurse busied herself with making sure Marianne was ready for the doctor to come in, including helping her up and out of the bed to go to the bathroom. He felt suddenly cold without her clutching to his hand.

It took entirely too long for them to be alone. “I'm sorry you got saddled with babysitting me...” Marianne said quietly as he got up and stretched. He smirked to himself. Saddled with her. That probably didn't mean to her what it meant to him, though it was close. “Oh aye, nuthin wurse'n havin' a lovely woman claim ya as her future husband... 'er havin yer best friend ask ya fer 'elp. Jus' tha wurst...” He let the sarcasm cover the bitterness he couldn't quite squelch entirely. “Oh eat a dick Bog.” She growled but there was very little real irritation to it, leaving him to smile at the growl. 

“Bog?” She started a question but there was a knock at the door, startling her. She called out to allow the person in and a woman in a nice looking suit walked in and introduced herself. “Marianne Summers? Hello, I'm here on behalf of the college. My firm has been contacted to reach out to you, it has come to our attention that there have been multiple attacks against you on school property. I have been authorized to extend the schools deepest regrets and an offer of assistance helping you feel safe at the school again. Including different lodging for the remainder of the semester. In a show of good faith I've even got the keys to a private residence.” 

“What?” Marianne looked baffled at the woman but Bog couldn't help but scoff. “This... wouldn't happen ta have anythin' ta do with all the litigation against all tha universities... Fer not protectin' victims a violent crimes 'n rape?” The woman gave him a wry grin. “If I'm not mistaken, you are Bogart Stroud? How convenient for me. We are prepared to offer you similar assistance. Though from what I was told on my way in, perhaps the pair of you won't be opposed to both of you staying in the same flat?” 

Bog couldn't help but feel blindsided, pulling away from the woman as though burned. The woman continued as though there was nothing weird about what she was suggesting. “The flat we're offering you two has two bedrooms, and being that Mr Stroud's entire room is currently a crime scene, we're more than happy to offer him a space. It's fully furnished and we've taken the liberty of providing a food budget.” Marianne looked shockingly calm to him, upsettingly calm. “Nora?” The woman smirked at Marianne, something Bog was quickly finding more and more infuriating. “Miss Fliege is being accommodated while the investigation finishes up in your shared room.”

Marianne nodded silently to herself and looked up at the woman. “Do you mind giving Bog and I a moment to speak privately?” The woman gave a deferring bob of her head to Marianne. “Of course Miss.” Bog couldn't help but prickle at the sly eyes that slid over him. As if he needed her smirking at him, measuring him, finding him lacking in some way. He almost jumped out of his skin when Marianne's warm hand slid over his arm. “Bog?” She questioned and he looked sadly at her. “I kin jus keep stayin on Stuff an' Thang's couch...” He offered immediately, he considered backing up and leaving but he was expected to drive her home. 

“Do you _want_ to keep sleeping on their couch? Because... Honestly I'd feel... Better... With you near, especially in a place I don't know.” He licked his lips looking down at her. “I mean... It sounds like it'll just be for the semester... If you... If you wouldn't mind, I mean after this... I'm a bit freaked out, and we've been friends for... For a long time.” He felt his head nod at her words but he was just lost in her, confused as to why she seemed to find him so comforting. “I mean, if you find it uncomfortable I won't force you...” She offered and he frowned, her hand slid up his arm and he jolted as her thumb ran under the sleeve of his teeshirt, brushing delicately over the marks hidden there. 

Suddenly it dawned on him that she didn't actually know. She didn't actually know that he had a crush on her, that he'd never _told_ Princess or Marianne _who_ he had a crush on, only that it was long standing. Could it actually be that she didn't know he wanted her so badly, and that she was offering him an out because she though he had a crush on someone else?! “Iffin ya want meh I'll be thar.” His voice worked without any of his brain, his heart having taken control of his voice. Some part of him _knew_ he couldn't have her, that was just preposterous, but damn him if he wouldn't pretend for a semester. Then at the end of the semester she'd be clawing to get away from him. He knew familiarity bread contempt, especially with someone as ugly as he was.

~~

Oh this was such a bad idea. It was the worst idea ever! How the fuck was this going to ever possibly work? Living... _With_... BOG?! She'd agreed to it, even begged him to be her roomie!! She sat in the passenger side of his car, dressed, bandaged and headed to her new place. They were heading to their new place, a flat, a house. She was going to be playing house with a rough, gruff, wonderful man... and she was half panicking. Were it not for the fact that the thought of him dropping her off at said place and then leaving her there by herself had _actually_ had her panicking she'd have changed her answer. No she was half panicking, it felt like fear and joy and even a bit of arousal. The confusing mix of feelings, the idea that he'd shower in there, the though that he might step out wearing only a towel wrapped around him and she might playfully hook her fingers in it and tug it away while he wasn't paying attention or that if she panicked he could be there to pet and sooth her and that he might find her annoying and want to be away from her. It all mixed into a horrific feeling of excited terror.

She wanted to kiss him.

That was the scariest part. She'd slowly come to grips with the realization in the hospital. After her lusty thoughts the idea of sharing space with him was... Singularly strange. She'd have ample opportunity to try now. She could seduce him, once her bruises were gone, find anything that might tease or ruffle him and offer him sweet touches and seductive looks. He couldn't really get away from her now. She could take her time with him and have him begging her!

The predatory mentality shook her slightly.

They were there, the number was right and as she moved to get out of the car he was suddenly there, his long legs carrying him far faster than she thought possible over to the passenger side. He helped her out of the car and she nearly hooked her fingers in his belt loops. It was just stress. She was only thinking that way because she wanted someone to be good to her. That was terrible, she couldn't do that to Bog, even if he wrapped his arms around her, letting her wrap her arm around him where he was gently supporting her without coddling her. “Well... We aught take a look... I dun't know which room yer gonna want but ye kin have it.” Oh Bog, sweet foolish Bog... Don't let me have that... because then my choice is whichever room you're gonna be in. “How sweet of you. We should probably set some ground rules? Nora and I did right away and I think it helped her and I get along...” He nodded silently. “I promise I wun't do anythin creepy iffin I kin help it. No sneakin inta tha bathroom er tha bedroom...”

He was serious? Right now she was feeling his muscles through his shirt where her hand was wrapped around his slim waist and he was talking about not being a creep. Honestly she couldn't begin to care if he just took her back to one of the rooms arbitrarily and threw her down. Her skin _burned_ under his hand, itched to have him smooth it down her spine, to have him wipe away all the gross feelings she was having. “Can't say I expected you to be creepy. You've pulled my ass out of the “rape” fire entirely too many times for me to expect you to do the same. I'll do my best to give you the same. I have a bad tendency to just walk into the bathroom though... I'm just gonna... throw it out there that you probably wanna lock it if you need time in there without interruption.” Suddenly an image of him in the bathroom came unbidden to her mind. Him with his arm over the sink and blood down his arm, a lurid red leaking from him. 

She stumbled and he murmured something soothing with “Tough Girl” in there while she remembered how to breathe. She immediately regretted having said anything, thoughts paraded around her head, things like her not being able to open the door while he bled out was a common theme, along with her not knowing he was hurt or had hurt himself too badly. Her mind raced trying to think of the best way to ask him not to cut, trying to think of a way that didn't end with her simply demanding he not do it. She was glad for the distraction checking out the flat afforded her.

The two bedrooms were similar, one had a slightly bigger closet and was smaller. She claimed it right away, gleeful at the violently violet pillow on the navy spread mixed with the bed being larger in the other room sealed it for her. “You need a bigger bed.” She argued with him. “Dun't matter... Ye kin have tha bigger bed iffin ya want...” She glared. “No. You are long... stupidly long. Take the bigger bed and like it!” She huffed, pushing him back into “his” room and shoving him hard onto the bed to make her point. He laughed at her, something broke in them, the stress from the semester suddenly washed them in laughter. 

He reached out and pulled her towards him with a loud. “Oh yea?!” then threw her on the bed too, tickling her sides while she screamed in anguished giggles. “Oh no you don't!” She shrilled catching his wrist and pushing his arm back, she rolled onto his chest, trying to pin the arm back while he grinned at her. “Yea!” His simple reply came with him just... using his other hand to make her shriek again. The wrestling ended with both her hands pinned above her head, her legs pinning his hip to the bedding and them panting through the last of their giggles as they both lay limply across his bed.

The simple red and black comforter was askew under them and the not quite matching maroon sheets underneath poked out around the edges. His hand slid down her arm and she sighed. She still needed to address her worries and fears. But they were laying on his bed, and he was calm now, just laying under her legs, his breathing slowly evening out. His hand had gone lax and his arm laid limply across her. It was so fucking comfortable! She was so short his head was still above her even with her stretched out like she was. She stretched, her legs curling around his ass as her back arched and she stiffened her whole self. “Ey! Watch tha hip Tough girl...” His hand caught on her knee where her legs were threatening the bruise across his hip. “Shit... sorry.” She moved to pull her legs off of him and he just left his hand on her knee. “Ya dun't have ta git up, just watch it.” She relaxed her tightened body. He pulled up on his elbow while she let her hands curl over her chest.

His hand slid against her leg for a second then he reached across her, a thoughtful look on his face suddenly. He picked up her left hand and turned it over, exposing all the bandages there. “Ah still cannea believe he cut yer wrist... M'so glad that weren't deep, at he dinnea manage ta...” She felt her spine go rigid and she flipped her hand back over, clutching her shirt while her eyes went wide. Before he could mention her sudden motion she started speaking. “Bog... Kin... Can we institute a rule about truth? If asked a direct question, you have to answer truthfully?” He frowned at her. “Course. Ah dun't plan on lyin ta ya.” She nodded sharply and then closed her eyes. “Roland didn't cut my wrist.” Bog looked incensed for a moment. “Ah dunnea care whicha tha wee bassa dun it...” She looked up at him with pain in her eyes and he stopped mid way through his burgeoning tirade. “Wu? 'ow'd'at 'appen?” Between the breathy freaked out quality of his voice and his accent it was hard to understand him, sadly she knew what he was asking without having to hear him speak. 

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, not able to look into his face. “I was talking with... Well you... online and Roland came knocking... he startled me and... I jerked.” When she looked up it was like his mind was clearly refusing to comprehend what she was implying. She could see it in his eyes, like revving the engine when the car's in neutral. “Jerked 'ow?” She sighed and could see terror slowly dawning on his face. “I wasn't actually planning on anything. I was just gonna quit after feeling the metal on my skin.” She wasn't sure if she wanted understanding or to just stop talking. She wanted him to trust her. So... “I turned the blade towards me, against my skin... and then he knocked. It startled me and I jerked...” He started to pull back in horror and she grabbed his wrist as he pulled it back towards him. “Bog... Please.” 

“I know it wasn't good... I just... I don't want to lie to you anymore...” She pleaded and it stopped him. “You... Lie to me?” She nodded fiercely. “I feel like I haven't been truthful. I wanna stop. I wanna be real. We've spent so much time not _knowing_ each other...” She had no idea where she was going with this. “I wanna protect you like you've protected me...” She continued, suddenly sure where she was going and she cringed at her own trajectory, but as unable to stop her momentum. “I want to promise you something... something that is going to be hard on both of us... but that I absolutely mean. I will never cut behind a closed door. I won't ever try to hide it from you if it happens.” He looked at her like he was going to throw up. “No... No! Yea cannea! Dun't...” He was clearly at a loss and she just pet his face gently through his confusion and fearful muttering. “Shhh.” She shushed him softly, and he shook with emotion, looking down at her. It was only now that their position on his bed really started to dawn on her. “I'm not planning anything Bog. I'm just... I'm giving you every opportunity to stop me... An... And I'd appreciate the same offer from you...”

She wasn't expecting a growl. Wasn't expecting him to take her by mid way down her arm and pin it to the bed. “D'ya 'ave any idea 'ow dangerous 'at wuz? Marianne!” She just lay limply below him as he snarled. The day before beating down on her, weary and weak she looked up at him, curled over her, pinning her left arm to the bed as fury and fear battled for dominance on his face. “Ah kin promise ya nuthin... Sept that iffin ah catch ya hurtin yerself 'at Ah'll bleed mor'in you...” She was almost as shocked as he was when her hand slid up and over his throat. Her fingers slid around the side of his throat and to the back of his neck, up into the coarse hair that prickled against her fingers pleasantly. 

“Then I guess I'll have to be very careful not to hurt myself.” She ran her blunt nails back down his neck and he shuddered. Fuck. That was so god damn cute. Her desire to kiss him rose again and his hand on her arm went from pinning her to caressing her. “'M sorry, I just... I want a chance to help... To make it so I'm not hurting you...” She whispered it, unable to put her whole voice to her worries. “I didn't mean to do it. Just... I don't want you to do it either...” She pleaded with only a tiny bit more force.

~~

Bog twisted his hips ever so slightly. What a fuckin roller coaster! One minute he's sick with worry, the next he's so incredibly turned on he's pretty sure they can see his heat signature from space. Marianne, Summer Princess, Tough girl... Put her hand on his throat with her legs thrown over his hip while he was only inches from her face. Then the damnable woman ran her hand up around his throat, and ran her nails back down his spine. He assumed his unreasonable enjoyment of everything that had to do with his spine and neck had to do with being so freakishly tall but he also accepted that it may be because he's a freak in general. Her thumb has slid across his adams apple, leaving his throat hot and itching for her to touch him again, the side of his neck tingled where her fingers had slid across the skin and his back ached for her hands on it. That of course didn't say anything about the raging hardon her nonthreatening exploration of sensitive skin had left him with.

He could barely hear her over his thundering pulse. Something about wanting to help and not wanting him to do “it” either. Some part of his mind acquired her words and tried to translate them to the rest of him but it was like his brain was playing it's own game of telephone, muddling and garbling the message. He sagged against her, letting his head lay on the bedding next to hers, face firmly planted in the blanket. The hand that had been on his neck fingered through his hair as well as it could, he gathered her against his chest. Everything made him tired right now, even this lusty feeling. 

“Marianne... Ah think Ah need ta sleep...” He said it into the covers but knew she had heard him when she twisted slightly. “Lemme up?” She asked and he picked his arm up, making sure she wasn't being any more hindered by him than absolutely necessary. Her moving away left him hollow and cold, there was a space she fit in so neatly and it was empty now. He stayed there, alone, wishing for contact with her for a long moment. He'd heard her leave the room and sighed. He groaned to himself, loudly, just about to get up and take his shoes off.

He went still as fingers plucked at his shoelaces, heart hammering in his chest. “Hold still ya stick bug! Or were you planning on leaving your shoes on?” He lifted up onto his elbows to watch her remove his shoes. “Ah kin...” She rolled her eyes at him dramatically. She'd changed clothes, wearing an over sized tee shirt that he could see. The idea that she might not be wearing anything else, or even just panties under the shirt reminded his body that he desired her. “You've been taking care of me for days. I can take your clown shoes off so you don't have to fold in half.” He flopped back on the bed and closed his eyes. 

The pressure on his foot decreased then his limp leg was moved, her gripping the back of his shoe and taking it off him. She had to yank pretty hard and fell back on her ass with a giggle, leaving him to smile at the sounds. His other foot moved, her pulling it onto her lap and fiddling with the laces. She eased him out of the other shoe with more precision, though she had to really yank to get his shoes off. “Thank ye...” He said quietly, then his eyes opened and his whole body stiffened, small fingers danced up his calf. “Wut'er ya doin?” There was a noise he could only assume was exasperation.

“Taking off your socks. How god damn long are these things?” She pushed his pant leg up his thin legs and gave a little excited noise when she found the top. “Where do you even... How big are your shoes?” Her hands running down his calf was not helping him calm down. “Um... Seven... Seventeens...” She whistled long and low as she pulled his other leg by his pants, her hands diving up and under the jeans, knowing where to go this time. Down the second sock went and her hand slid absently over the top of his foot. 

“Where do you even buy shoes?” Fingers distracted him as she curled her fingers around his foot, pressing into the meat of his foot and he hissed, arcing up on the bed. “Sorry... Did that hurt or...?” She giggled when he looked down his body at her, slightly despondent that she stopped and wholly glad she wasn't continuing. “Sorry, I'll just leave your feet alone...” His head flopped back again, he was splayed out on the bedding, feet hanging off the edge where she was sitting. “Iz'oka... Jus weren't ready fer...” He started but then small hands were at his knees, pushing his legs up onto the bed. “God you're like a bag of wet cement! How can you weigh this much while being so thin!” She complained as she drug his limbs onto the bed.

He watched in bemused silence as she fought with his limp limbs then rolled his comforter over him with a satisfied smirk. She was wearing some short little shorts and that made him a bit more comfortable. “Y'know... 'm still wearin muh jeans an a belt...” She grinned and plopped down on his bed curling under his blankets, covering her head. “Ok, you're safe.” He poked the bundle under his blankets. “Oi! Yer bed's the other’in, er am Ah gunna have ta sleep in tha midgit bed?” She giggled and flipped the sheet back off her head. “Hey! Either you change while I hide or I'll change you myself! You're the one who said you were tired!” He prodded the lump again, about where he suspected her leg was. “An these're tha only options? Wut 'bout ya goin out tha room?” 

Before the blankets flipped back over her head he thought for just a moment he saw her grimace. “Nah. I'll give ya to the count of ten before I attack you and steal your belt.” He raised an eyebrow at the lump. “Wouldn't suggest it luv. Y'll git an eyeful.” He joked and she giggled under the blankets. “Don't tempt me... One... two... Threeeeee...” Bog never had any siblings, and he got the feeling this was what it was like to have one... either that or what it was like to have a silly girlfriend.

Fuck.

“Four... Five.... Half way and I don't heaaaar anything... Six...” He unbubkled his belt and smirked at her being silly. “Seeeeven...” He slipped his belt and pants off, glad he wore boxers and not briefs. “Eeeeeiiiiiight!” He pulled his shirt up and winced at taking his arm over his head, actually getting stuck in the thing from the pain. “Shite... Fuk!” Sudden as a gunshot there were hands on him, delicate little fingers prying his head out of the shirt and helping it glide over him without hurting him further. Able to see again as his shirt hung off his arms she moved him under the light, standing on the bed, to inspect his shoulder. Sweet, soft, careful inspection, she was so serious as she looked down at it, the stitched up spot on his shoulder, he had fewer stitches than she did, he'd heard the doctor talking to her about how many to put in. Just three stitches, but it'd been enough to keep the stupid thing in his shoulder for more than a second. That's what he got for keeping the thing so stupidly sharp.

“Oh good, you didn't rip anything...” Soft fingers receded from his wound and he looked up at her, she was a bit taller than him like this. She smiled softly down at him. “Now get your gangly ass into this bed. I'll set an alarm and we'll nap.” He blinked up at her, the words just not quite reaching his brain properly. “We?” She pulled on his good shoulder, trying to drag him onto the bed. “Yea, you're not the only tired one and I'm panicky enough that leaving to change had my blood pressure through the roof. So either we can both nap or I can watch you sleep, cus that's totally not creepy at all.” 

Bog did his best impression of an owl, eyes wide and blinking slowly, he was easy to manipulate into the bed. She just pulled on him until he crawled into the bed. She pulled the covers back then over him and he continued to blink, watching her with wide, shocked eyes. “Oh come the fuck on Bog... Don't look at me like that... it's not like I'm gonna dive under the covers and give you a blowy.” She rolled her eyes as she slid under his covers, laying near him. After a few minutes, trying to close his eyes he spoke softly, “Marianne...” She responded with a sleepy hum. “If yer panickin that badly... How're we gonna sleep?” Her eyes eased open and she looked over at him where he lay, facing her, clutching to the pillow like it was his lifeline. “Spose we'll just have to figure that out tonight. Just have a nap Bog...” She offered and he tried to relax, tried to calm himself, drifting slowly off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Was it worth all the torture? One more chapter after this one...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF AND SMUT!
> 
> Because I'm not happy without a bit of smut am I? And you can't have good smut without some fluff... AND ANGST XD I'm a monster. Someone should stop me.

Marianne had a hell of a time sleeping in her own bed. She managed it after a few days but Bog was a saint and told her after their first nap together that if she ever needed it, his bed was open for her to nap or sleep in. Going back to school had been tough but she'd managed that too. In the daylight she was fairly ok, she could see people coming and she made friends with a few other people in her classes, trying to always be in a pack of people should something happen. It didn't seem to matter that Roland was still in jail to her frazzled mind, only two of his buddies were in there with him. 

She found it _almost_ surprising her father was trying to force as many charges on Roland and his friends he could manage. She hadn't really expected her father to go totally against Roland so easily, though if this was easy she may not have lived through “hard”. He was throwing himself headlong into Roland's prosecution. Kidnapping, attempted murder, attempted rape to name the most prominent charges along with a civil suit to go along side the criminal charges calling Roland out on the mental and physical damages done to her. 

What _definitely_ shocked her was her father was ensuring Roland paid for what he did to Bog as well. After them arguing in the hospital she was sure he would hold a grudge against her best friend and now flat mate. He threw himself at the charges for Bog just as hard, assault, battery, criminal threatening, the works, anything he could dredge up, even theft when he found out the knife had been owned by Bog. Bog wouldn't talk to her about what the pair had argued in the hospital over, she hadn't really heard what they were saying, just that they were getting angry at each other. 

Her father eventually admitted that he was trying to pressure Bog into telling him things about all the times Roland had been awful to her. He begged her to tell him what it was that Bog was holding back, but when she realized what it was that Bog had refused to tell her father she knew what was going to happen if she told him. Sure, it was more evidence against Roland, but it was also deeply personal, and highly embarrassing to think back on. She only told her father that Roland hadn't respected her boundaries and that it wouldn't help him. He didn't believe her and hounded her for hours about it but when she started getting angry he tried to back off as much as he could stand, which honestly wasn't far enough. 

As for Bog, Marianne quickly discovered that whatever she'd felt for him at the hospital, it had just been the beginning. She had silently assumed that the attraction she had felt was something she would get over, an infatuation at best. Boy was she wrong. She'd thought watching him in the hospital was tempting, but now that desire to put her hands on him seemed silly and weak. He quickly started to grow comfortable, she supposed occasionally sharing a bed in the most platonic of ways might do that to a person. With his comfort level rising, his clothing level dropped, much like her own, though he probably didn't know that she had more than just her comfort as why she was less and less dressed. 

 

They went to the gym religiously now, daily, even on the weekends. Spent most of their time away from the school together. As much time as they used to spend talking to each other online before they spent just as much if not more together now. She expected to get tired of him or him to be annoyed with her. Instead her libido was raging about how she hadn't ridden him into the sunset and neither had shown even the slightest sign of being weary of the other.

“Bog? Are Stuff and Thang coming over tonight or are they gonna play from the dorm?” The flat had been rearranged pretty significantly, the living room was no exception. The couch had been moved to the other side of the small living room and her computer desk was right next to the one arm. Bog laid out across the small couch, long legs hanging off the too short couch. “Stuff said she dinnea wanna wear pants... 'M guessin they'll be stayin in.” Their relationship was so damningly casual physically, he didn't jump when she got his attention by sliding her fingers through his hair. His chin lifted so that he could see her, upside down blue eyes watched her, waiting for her words. “We should eat before everyone gets on, that way neither of us is running to check on the food mid sentence...” A crooked grin shone up at her before he rolled his eyes. “Spose tha's muh cue ta go figure out what we're gonna eat then?”

Marianne smirked down at him and sweetly flicked the end of his nose, it never failed to make his eyes cross. “If you just tell me what we've still got in the fridge I can help you know...” They'd gotten their stitches out a while back and their last appointment was today. Most of their doctor appointments dealing with the attack had been made together so that Marianne could be sure Bog went and because he drove them there. She still wanted to do something a bit different for supper though. “Or we could maaaayybeeeee... Order pizza?” 

She let her fingers trail over his face, the overly affectionate gesture intended to tickle his cheeks and his ears. He flushed like he always did when she tickled him, wincing and then rubbing the tickled skin roughly. “Gah! Devil! A'right! Pizza.” Marianne wanted badly to jump this hurdle, the hurdle of being physical and affectionate but not sexual. Only problem, how do you put the moves on your best friend and room mate? Too many times she'd considered crawling across him and putting her lips on him. And too many times she'd decided it was too dangerous. She didn't know enough about what was going on in his head, he was entirely too good at keeping himself level. He always seemed so calm around her. It wasn't that he was unaffected by her, just... calm.

In fairness she hadn't gotten too bold, Marianne was trying to be reasonable. She was trying not to throw herself bodily at him. She hadn't snuck into the bathroom while he was showering or put her mouth on him or put her hands on him like she wanted to. She'd been behaved but she could feel those barriers slowly crumbling to dust. She'd rattled the handle today when he was showering, prompting him to shout at her through the door and she'd laughed and laughed when he scowled at her in his towel, dripping wet mess of limbs scolding her for startling him before he too devolved into her giggle fit fleeing for his room. She caught herself nuzzling him when he was close and she touched him more and more as time went on. It was, honestly, just a matter of time before she slipped up. She'd originally thought his slight distance would put her off and clear up her issues but his distance felt more like respect. He kept a _respectful_ distance from her but he didn't hide from her. She didn't feel like she was chasing him but instead like she was teasing him.

It was _fun_ to tease him because he gave as good as he got. When he got back out of his room, dressed after her chicanery, he'd snuck up on her and scared the ever living shit out of her. One assumes a person as _big_ as he was would have difficulty being quiet but the thing was he was just as quiet as anyone else and he had a longer stride. She chased him all over the house screaming at him for scaring her while he cackled about how it was comeuppance. If ever she needed him he was right there, if she was a clutz and hurt herself, he was right there to doctor her, or if things got to hard on her and she ended up panicking about something he was quick to pull her to him and calm her with jokes or just petting her hair. Was it perfect? Fuck no. When they argued it was like two cats in a sack, but some how they didn't say anything in anger they wouldn't say normally and when they calmed themselves they'd actually talk it out, figure out what was going on and smooth the issues over with real, reasonable solutions that worked for both. 

Bog had already gotten up, scrubbing his face again with his hands where she'd tickled him, getting on his phone to call for pizza. Marianne sat there and traced her new scars on her left hand while she listened to him order their pizza. As the call ended she rolled her shoulder, suddenly there were long, roughly calloused, dexterous fingers working into her shoulders and upper back. Marianne groaned with her appreciation as he loosened her shoulders for her. She shuddered as he ran his thumbs downward from the base of her skull. Arching into his hands she turned to putty, he was so damn good at that. “Ever considered whoring yourself out at one of those mall massage parlors? You'd make a killing.” She asked, draped languidly over the back of her chair now as he worked on her. He gave a wry chuckle at her boneless posture and genuine praise. He rubbed her back in a way that let her know he was done and she stood, stretching after that nice rub. “Dun't think muh skill would overcome muh face.” His reply was snarky and she glared at him over her shoulder. “Yer tha one that called it whorin...”

She rolled her eyes at him as he plopped down on the couch, popping his neck but had to get right back up for the pizza. They ate like cave men, devouring the pizza in no time. Fed he moved to lay back with his laptop but she had an idea. She slipped behind him on the couch before he could lay down and started working on his shoulders. He stiffened under her hands and she popped his shoulder gently. “Relax...” She scolded but he gave a slightly manic little laugh. 

“Ah cannea... dun't have sumpthin ta lean against like ya did...” She looked around their place for a moment, he was just too damn long. She grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him along after her, heading towards his room. “Wut'er ya doin Tough girl?” There was a nervous lilt to his voice though he didn't pull back against her, just let her drag him. With a shove she threw him, face first onto his bed, climbing on after him with a smug grin on her face. She wasn't entirely sure what that look on his face was for but he didn't fight her as she manhandled him into position on the bed. Hand pinning him down by his shoulder she leaned over him as she threw her leg across his narrow ass. “You're gonna hold still while I rub _your_ back for once.”

He sputtered a half unintelligible protest as she tried to find a comfortable seat on his well formed but rather boney ass. “Ya dun't have ta...” He finally voiced a protest properly as she ran her hands over his shoulders but he had raised up on his elbow to look at her. She rolled her eyes at him and pushed on him again. “Duh. Now lay on your belly and let me be nice to you. We've got time till everyone gets on. Or am I gonna have to get some fuckin rope?” She threatened and he... He shuddered under her. Marianne was glad he wasn't looking back still because she had to bite her lip to stop herself from making some particularly excited noises. Her legs were slung over him, she was sitting on his lower back so she could get to his shoulders and the tremble down his spine had been felt not just in her hands. To make matters worse, he was so long, if she tried to move down his back she'd have to slide back up onto his ass, which she absolutely wanted to do but she'd probably moan like a whore if she did that.

“God Bog, you're so tense! I'm scared I'm gonna bruise you if you don't just... Breathe or something... There... that's better...” He took a deep breath and the muscles under her hands became slightly more pliant. She felt almost like she was coaxing a scared animal, getting him to relax was almost impossible but slowly he loosened into her hands. She started on his shoulders, the broad muscled things needed it too. He was flinching a lot under her hands and she questioned softly as she worked on a knot. “Am I hurting you? Too much pressure?” Her voice seemed to startle him, his muscles bunching for a second and she saw his long fingers bunch the blanket. 

“Surry... Feels...” His voice was particularly breathy so she slowed her fingers to give him a chance. “Yer doin fine, just hurts a bit but... Feels pretty good...” There was a forced kind of casual to his voice and she smiled at the back of his head. She pressed into the muscled under his shoulder blades and he tried valiantly to bite back a moan, making her giggle. “Did you want me to stop?” She knew she shouldn't but she was leaned over him, asking huskily into the back of his head, making him shiver again.

He relaxed again, only shaking his head in answer to her. His shirt was bunching under her hands and the devilish part of her brain told her this was the perfect time to get to touch his back in a platonic/totally not platonic sort of way. She lifted herself up and slightly off of him to slide her hands between her thighs. For just a moment he must have thought she was getting off of him because he looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes almost dreamily looking up at her. Then his eyes flew wide open, his spine curled back towards her and he gasped while she ran her hands up his skin under his shirt. “Shirts in the way...” She was able to quickly move it all the way up to his shoulders before he fell back to the bed. She ran her nails back down his spine, gently scraping them against his skin left him a shuddering mess, face shoved into the pillow, long fingers twisted into the thing so hard she wouldn't be shocked if he put holes in the thing. A heady moan was muffled by the pillow, something that made her smile and want to twist her hips against him. “Did that tickle?” She questioned with false innocence as she felt a tiny roll of his hips. 

“Mahreeahnn...” The way he breathed her name did things to her. She couldn't just grind into his ass and back but it took too much effort to totally stop herself. The flinch of a roll of her hips turned into her sliding back up onto his butt so she could work his lower back and spine. With her fingers on his skin he didn't seem to be able to hold back the moans anymore and they were twisting her up. He mixed the moans with groans and pleasant cursing, an entirely too endearing reaction. 

She'd be concerned but his cursing seemed to be guiding her, a whimpering “shite” meant that hurt to much and a moaning “Oh fuk” told her she was in the right place. She worked him over until he was as much a puddle as her panties were. She scratched his back again and he was like a snapping cable, making her giggle softly before laying down against him, running her hands around his chest, laying one palm flat on his stomach while the other rubbed his side gently. He was panting, and she really wished he was rolled over, but she nuzzled into his spine all the same, laying a kiss on his skin between his shoulder blades.

~~

Bog was not used to being treasured or cared for or any of the things you could call what Marianne was doing and had been doing this whole time. He'd kept himself at a careful distance, not letting hugs last too long or his fingers linger but he couldn't bring himself to stop _her_ from lingering. Giving her a back rub seemed like a good idea at the time. She'd been rubbing her shoulders and neck for some time. On top of her obvious need he'd had to help his mother out with her back issues for some time. He knew he was good at massaging aches away. He was not good at _being_ massaged. Especially not when the part of him was his back. He could handle people messing with his arms, his hands even his feet, but his back? No, he could _not_ handle that. But this was _Marianne_ massaging him and he couldn't say no to her hands on him. That guilty little part of his brain wanting to feel her all around him, all over him. It was every bit as wonderful and terrible as he'd feared. At first she was pushing a bit too hard and it'd helped ground him but it still felt entirely too good.

He'd tried so hard to keep calm, not to focus too hard on what she was doing. Even with him trying so hard, he wasn't going to be able to stand up without embarrassing himself. When her hands slid under his shirt he was painfully hard, the weight of her on his hips wasn't helping any either. Any hope at retaining his dignity had died when her hands started moving against his bare skin. He couldn't keep quiet and it took most of his concentration to stop himself from humping the bed like a fucking dog! 

When she was apparently satisfied he was ruined and boneless enough on the bedding, she laid down on him and he tried to slow his pounding pulse. The gentle weight of her on his back was fantastic, but it was something calming, it was safe. Right until she nuzzled his spine and kissed him right between his shoulders blades. He'd been moaning and swearing the whole back rub but the lips on his spine made his whole body curl and roll as a low guttural whine left him. He'd pulled one knee up and arched his head back, one hand was curled into a claw in the air while the other was fisted in his comforter. 

She giggled. “Ticklish?” She purred again, having tightened her grip on his belly, he could feel her fingers flat against his stomach and the animal part of his brain wanted that hand just a bit lower... She giggled as he panted, trying desperately to come down from the lusty haze she was putting him in when suddenly her fingers flexed. He was unable to really comprehend why her legs suddenly tightened around his hips and her other arm wrapped around him, like she was preparing to ride an unruly horse. 

Something wet, smooth and hot slid up his spine. Hot breath on his skin and a trail of damp on his spine cooling as she breathed in, he did buck. His brain whited out, he needed her, he needed her to either get off of him and let him be or he needed her to move her hand lower. “Ooo!” Her voice, a surprised coo against his skin, made him nearly frantic. He grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her off of him, but as he moved her hand out, away from him she clenched because he canted his hips up to pull her on her and she squealed at the jostling and tried not to fall. Her fingers caught in a belt loop as her laughter bounced off his shoulder. He froze, panic and hurt settling in his stomach, her hand far too close to him and laughter not the thing he wanted to hear while he was this sexually frustrated. “Marianne... Git offa meh...” She stilled and her laughter died, slowly she slid off of him onto the bed. “I... Wh... Sorry? I... didn't mean to...” She stammered trying to calm him but she was petting his side still, trying to calm him but all she was doing was reminding him that it hadn't meant anything.

Bog curled away from her, feeling all the more pathetic as he squirmed away from her touch, being sure to cover the bulge in his pants with his leg so she couldn't see. “Bog... I'm sorry... What did I do?” She sat up and he couldn't answer her could he? He growled at her, he didn't want to lie to her but... He pulled the pillow over his face and rolled onto his back, shifting uncomfortably at letting her see what he couldn't explain. “Oh... Oh my...” She breathed and he curled back up, winding into a small wad of man and remorse. “Jus... Jus leave meh...” He groaned under the pillow, unable to show his face to her. He felt her shift on the bed, assuming she was leaving he tried to relax. The pillow fell off his face and he was looking up into hers. She was smiling a warm, sweet, but slightly uncertain smile. “K'mon Bog! 's not like that's the first boner you've gotten around me...” He lifted his leg and turned his head away from her, refusing to speak for fear of saying something _incredibly_ stupid.

Suddenly she was whispering in his ear. “It's a natural response Bog... And I'll gladly take it as a compliment.” He could have handled the seductive whisper, written her smug tone off without issue. He could maybe turn the kiss she placed on the tip of his ear as some platonic gesture taken too far. He could not miss-attribute the small fingers skating across his exposed stomach, pressing against the top of his pants. “Only question is...” Those daring digits pressed ever so gently under the waist band, slipping oh so temptingly under his boxers. Her fingers so close to his aching hard on as she breathed against his ear again. “Do you need some time to yourself to take care of it... Or can I help you...?” His hips bucked as she bit the tip of his ear, pressing her hand further down his abs, brushing against him. He couldn't fucking breath. He couldn't see straight. All he could think was dear god don't let this be a dream. Let this be real. Let her really want him, let her really be reaching into his underwear and let her really be wrapping her hand around his cock. The pleasantly painful scrape of her teeth on the cords of his throat told him there was no way this was a dream but he still couldn't believe _this_ was real. Some where in his mind he knew he was shouting. “Marianne! Please! Oh God!” or something to that effect.

Her tiny sweet little body was pressed into his side and he pitched his hips up towards her so she could keep her head near his collar while she reached the long way down the length of his torso to his hips. His whole body was aware of every point of contact, he just wanted more of her. Her breath was panting against his collar, she'd had to slip slightly down so she could stroke his whole length inside his shorts. Her mouth was against his chest, pressing kisses and licks to any skin she could reach. When her tongue rasped across his nipple he knew he screamed again which drew a small little satisfied giggle out of her. Then she pressed her tongue and lips to his nipple, she blew his mind, sucking gently on the sensitive skin. That was too much, the sweet squeeze of her hand and the shocking feeling of her lips pulling on his flesh sent him groaning and whining over the edge of bliss. Her hand didn't stop until he started thrashing. Her now sloppy hand slipped against his skin in an absolutely sinful feeling of completion.

And his mind was blank. Even though he knew he would hate himself for everything in a matter of minutes, right then, there was nothing. Just the pure stillness of his mind, no angry voices, no reproach or condemnation. Just quiet, gentle blind bliss as she rested against his chest, squirming seductively into his overly sensitive skin. Her hand slid out of his shorts and he shivered at the loss of her warmth while he shook from the sensation of her skin against his. She was too much and not enough all at the same time. There was a pleased little purr out of the minx next to him, her soft, full, slightly chapped lips pressed to the corner of his mouth. It drew his bleary eyes up to hers as she smiled down at him. Her smile was gentle, then, a smug smirk replaced the sweet smile and she showed him her messy hand, making him wince slightly. Then the sultry little thing licked her palm which made him whine and buck his hips. “Say something Bog... Or I'm gonna make you even messier...” She threatened him with his own cum, the single lick hadn't cleaned the hand by a long shot.

“Fuuuk...” He slurred, unable to really put thoughts together. Truly the word was him lamenting the inevitability of him being smeared with his own jizz yet further but she giggled. “Was it good?” She asked, a hint of incredulity to her tone and her raised eyebrow. “I've... never actually... Gotten that sort of reaction...” His brain reeled trying to decipher this word puzzle. “Huh?” He finally questioned trying for clarification. She frowned and seemed deep in thought for a moment. “You... Were really vocal and... You kinda looked like you were hurting some of the time... But... You asked... Well _screamed_... for me to keep going... I... I guess I'm asking... Did I do the right thing?” 

Suddenly the confident, sexy woman who had threatened to muss him with his own wank was shrinking into his side and looking worried. He tried very hard to look seriously at her. “Mari... Marianne I kin barely think... An yer askin me ta... Ta explain an earth shatterin orgasm?” That did it. He was smeared with his spunk but he was pretty sure that the slightly cold smear was accidental as she lunged over him and hugged him. Still the cold of it made him shudder while he wrapped his arm reflexively around her torso.

They laid there for a moment, a long sweet moment while his mind restarted. This had to be a dream right? Had he already decided it wasn't? Because it really should have been a dream. This just... It couldn't really happen could it? She nuzzled into his shoulder to get his attention. “Was this... A one time thing or not?” Her questioning voice sounded tentative, like she was scared. Like he'd _deny_ her. “Tha'... is entirely up ta you.” He did his best to enunciate that slowly and clearly. He sure as fuck wasn't going to stop her, but he couldn't expect her to be interested in him. Honestly he just wanted her happy, and if _that_ made her happy... Then he was the luckiest man alive. 

She laid there for another long moment, then shifted and he looked over at her. That thoughtful look was back on her face as she regarded him. She leaned slowly down, her eyes drifting to his lips and then up to his eyes. He had to admit he was nervous, the weight of her gaze made his lips feel dry and he couldn't help but lick them, but he didn't know what was going on, didn't dare hope, so nerves made him run his teeth over his lip. She stopped just a breath away, looking into his eyes as her fingers danced on his side. “Then kiss me Bog.”

Never in his life had Bog heard words so sweet. A heavy sigh parted his lips and he curled gently up into her pushing up into her lips, letting the petal soft skin press down into his chapped, rough lips. The arm she'd been laying over had wrapped around her back and gripped her shoulder gently. After a moment he rolled back down onto the bed and looked up at her. Her eyes still closed, lips parted and pink, curled in a sweet smirk. “Wus.” She teased him and he lunged at her. He tackled her back to the bed, pinning her shoulder down with a hand while the other slid under her head. “A'right Tough girl...” He growled and her golden eyes popped open up at him, mischief playing across her features before he crashed down on her, pressing his lips firmly to hers this time and groaning when they parted easily for him. She goaded him, parted her lips so he would deepen the kiss, flicked her tongue forward in a challenge, slid her fingers down his spine to make him shudder all while he did his damnedest to respond to her cues. He'd be damned if he left her wanting.

Just as his fingers slid up under her shirt, just as she was gasping and groaning and rolling her head back in what he was pretty fucking sure was enjoyment, there was a ringing noise. Her computer started complaining, loudly, that their friends were online... and trying to get a hold of them. The slim body under him went taunt, nearly vibrating with frustration before she relaxed slightly. Their lips parted and he rested his head on her shoulder, eyes winced closed at the interruption. “How fucked are we if we ignore them?” She asked as she carded her fingers through his hair. “Dun't know bout “fucked”... bu' Stuff'll be 'ere in less'n ten iffin Ah dun't answer.” Marianne grumbled below him and he pulled back, knowing this moment was lost. “Weeeeeeell.... shit.” Her frustration carried clearly through those two words. He smiled down at her and patted her hip as he drew off of her to go answer the call. She looked like she belonged there, self assured as she was sprawled in his blankets. He gave a little shudder and took brisk, nearly jogging steps over to the computer to quickly answer the call.

“Mari?” Stuff was already worried, he could hear it in her voice. He looked over his shoulder to see her heading to the bathroom, she wiggled her hand that had been... Messy... At him and grinned mischievously. “She's in tha lavy.” Stuff's voice came back at him particularly aggravated and dare he say nervous? “And you?” She was half as bad as his mother with how she could fret. “In muh bedroom...” He knew as soon as she took a sharp little breath that he was going to get the third degree. “Are you ok? Bog you sound winded... what's going on? Do you need us to come over? Did you two have a fight?!?” Marianne was behind him, she ran a hand along his bare back before snuggling up against his curled torso. “He's fine Steph. Trust me. Everything is juuust fine.” First there was a gruff noise, followed by a sigh, then a resigned noise and lastly an answer to the demand for trust. “Yes my queen.” There was respect hidden under a heavy blanket of sarcasm.

Marianne, the minx that she is, ran her hands over his skin and then, as though she knew exactly how sensitive he was she ghosted her fingers over his ribs making him yelp in shock. “WHAT WAS THAT!?” Stuff screamed into the mic, clearly upset as Marianne laughed and tickled poor Bog relentlessly. “Ya damn harpy! Lemme loose! Aaahhh! Sto... Oop!” Bog was laughing, trying desperately to fight Marianne off while she cackled and pinned the poor man to the couch. Stuff was growling about how terrible of people they were. There was a voice in the distance of Stuff's apartment. “Oh stop it Steph. They're having fun. Let them have it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have another chapter planned... but just... I haven't written it yet. Also a chapter of pure smut. >.> Cus I'm an unclean soul and I just fucking love these two and they deserve to have fun.
> 
> I'd actually considered taking this chapter and holding on to it until I finished the other smut chapter and making them their own little thing... but Eh. Lemme know if you think I should move this out to a smut only story... *shrug*


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! SMUUUUT!
> 
> Ok I had... more fun than is reasonable writing this. These dorks are so fun to write being awkward and lusty... Forgive my hyperness but yea...
> 
> I love you all, and the comments on this have been amazing. Happy birthmas or something...

They didn't get back to his bedroom that night. He hadn't expected it but they'd been... Snuggly..? all night. He'd never put his shirt on even though he eventually went and cleaned up the mess they made of him, putting on new boxers and little else after having taken a rag to himself. Notably having to wipe down his chest and Marianne giggled from the other room as he did so, seeing him in the mirror. “Do you need a shower _King_?” He'd given her a bit of a glare that had so little heat to it that she just giggled in her seat before turning back to the computer. 

By the time they were done playing Marianne was dead on her feet and he wasn't exactly bright eyed himself. They brushed their teeth at the same time, something that felt painfully domestic. It was... Weird? He didn't know but there was just something about standing in his boxers behind her as she brushed her teeth, eyes closed. Like they were a couple. A real couple. Not just a pair of college students rooming together who had managed to fall into his bed. 

Intellectually he knew there was nothing wrong with her shuffling into her room, calling “Night Bog” over her shoulder before flopping into her bed without closing the door. That didn't change how his heart cracked at seeing her lay in her bed while his bed was still mussed from their fun earlier. A great sigh escaped him but he smiled at her open door anyway. They'd move at her pace. Whatever pace that was he wouldn't push her. She was out as soon as she hit the pillow and he couldn't quite stop himself from stepping into her room and pulling the blanket up and over her being she was laying on top of her messy sheets. Would she be upset with him for a moments affection? He leaned over, laying a soft kiss to her hairline before fleeing her room.

And everything was normal.

So normal it almost hurt the next morning. Late waking as usual, Marianne ran through the shower, he'd gotten one earlier and they both had a gym bag he had thrown in the back seat of his car. He'd made her some toast... Even buttered it for her and she jammed it into her face with gusto. They talked about plans for the next raids and for new characters and about what they'd eat for lunch on the drive to the school. He'd almost managed to take refuge in how normal it was.

If things were normal then she wasn't upset. She was still lively, smiling. She still poked his ribs and pushed his shoulder when he made a joke. Everything was still normal... And that meant he hadn't screwed anything up so badly that she regretted. She wasn't shying away from him, wasn't avoiding him, just... He was kind of hoping to... He'd love to feel her against him, even in just a hug. Just something... Something to tell him he's on the right track.

Bog unfolded himself out of his car and Marianne popped out of her side, far too chipper for someone who'd woken up all of thirty minutes ago.

Then he nearly fell as she outright ran around the car and launched herself at him.

“SHITE!” His voice was sharp but he managed to catch both her and his balance. He gave her a little hug back and she hummed happily before letting go of him. “What were that 'bout?” He questioned as she stepped backwards. She grinned and winked at him, pulling her lip between her teeth and then took off. “Sorry Bog! Gotta go!” And she was off like a shot. He didn't see her again until they were in the gym. Some other people were actually there this time which was certainly not par for the course, they'd only seen other people using the weights at this time of day a hand full of times, a dozen at most.

Lunch was always quick. Everything was just so normal but... She gripped him when she touched him. It was a strange little thing. When she laughed she'd pull him closer instead of shoving him. They weren't usually this casual in public. It'd never been a conscious thing but he realized, even though she wasn't saying anything different, didn't go in for a kiss or even a hug, she was closer. She leaned into him when they were in one of the two classes they had together, the seats close enough that she wasn't leaning over an isle.

He'd calmed himself entirely and just accepted that things wouldn't change that much by the time they were heading home. It was fine, actually fine, that she wanted to keep things slow. Tonight was her turn to cook so he'd be doing dishes tonight. Just because he really had wished he could get close to her again, to touch her and maybe kiss her was no consequence. She was going to cook and he was going to chill out on the couch. He caught himself watching her flitter around the kitchen, watching the way her short hair bounced and her eyes sharpened at this thing or that. The way she nibbled the corner of her lip when she was thinking. 

He was so sunk. 

Oh he was in deep and he was miles below the surface. He'd only now realized exactly how totally and completely screwed he was. If this was just a friends with benefits thing he was going to crash and burn in a spectacular blaze. She'd said he could kiss her when he wanted, challenged him to kiss her again... But was it just a moment's lust that she'd been voicing or had it been something stronger? Part of him screamed to just take what he could get, run with what she offered and damn the consequences. But there was still some self preservation in him that warned him to make her put a name to it. He almost asked, almost questioned if she was serious about him or if it was just a passing thing. 

She looked up at him with a grin in her eyes and his heart stopped.

He couldn't. He just had to take what she'd give him and pray that it was enough. He'd burn out like a shooting star and she'd hate him and then he'd just die. And that was ok. He was done if he lost her anyway.

~~

This was torture! Horrible, agonizing torture!

Bog was right there. Just... THERE.

She could just... reach out and take him. She _knew_ he wouldn't object, hell he might be waiting for her to make the first move but Marianne couldn't bring herself to do any of the utterly _obscene_ things that were dancing through her mind. He pushed the long sleeves of his shirt up and was wrist deep in the dish water, she could see him in profile. He looked so... _Hot_ when he was domestic. His long self arched over the dishes, his dark hair falling slightly around his face, him muttering at some bit of cheese stuck to a plate...

He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow at her and she couldn't help but feel like she'd been caught. She was staring and she knew it. Fuck it. She stood from their little table that she had been working on, papers scattered over it's small surface. He watched her walk up to him and pick up a hand towel to dry the dishes he was working on and he went back to what he was doing. He'd probably forget about her watching him and now she could watch him from a far shorter distance.

“Hey Bog...” She started and he hummed at her, his eyes flicking over to her for just a moment. “Are you... Cool with what happened last night?” He scoffed almost immediately. “Ah dinnea have anithin ta complain about did Ah?” There was something painfully hot about the little grin he had on his face. She knew that if he wasn't done now, he would be soon. She set down the towel on the counter. His hands still stuffed into the water as he worked on some silver ware she slid her hand into his pocket at his hip and he yelped, pitching forward at the sudden, and very forward hand. 

“'At tickles ya harpy...” It was less him scolding her and more him informing her. She hummed to herself. “Could ya finish up?” She questioned as she wrapped him in her arms, one hand still dancing along his middle, teasing. “Oh fer... Aye... Ah'll finish up...” She could hear him gulp when she nuzzled into his spine, feeling him to stiff. “You like me playing with your back?” she murmured into his spine and she could feel a shudder answer her. “Ah'm... Ah've got a sensitive back...” She pulled one hand along his side and under his shirt while the other held fast at his waist, between his belly button and the waist band of his low slung pants. She ran her hand up his spine under his shirt and he hissed at the sensation.

“Yer treadin a vury specific path thar...” His voice had gone ragged and his hands were braced on the sink now. “What path is that?” She purred at him as she ran her nails lightly back down. He growled softly at her and started to speak. “Dun't tease mehhhhhooooh fuk.” Her hand slid below the elastic as he told her not to tease. He shuddered again and she slid her hand slowly down through the rough curls of hair towards her half hard prize. “Mmmm.” She purred against his back, eyes closed savoring the slight shiver he gave and imagining what his face must have looked like when he rolled his head back. 

He gasped and gripped her arm with a wet hand, swallowing noisily and stammering suddenly though his voice was strained and faltered even as her fingers slowly trailed back up his skin. She cocked her head at him, eyes wide as she tilted her head at him. He looked back at her and looked... Almost scared while she blinked up at him. “Mari... Ah... Ah kinnea jus'... turn off wantin ya. Suh... Before ya...” his eyes rolled up briefly while he shivered at her fingers retreating from him. “'Fore ya seduce me agin... Are we jus' friends?” There was an almost terrified quality to his voice as he looked at her, he hadn't let go of her arm, holding her in between fleeing from him or diving back into what she'd been doing.

It'd been heart stopping for just a moment, that moment when he stopped her as her fingers just barely brushed her prize. For that frigid, cold, terrifying moment he might have actually been telling her no, she might have gone too far, she might be out of line. But... “Are we just friends?” Was almost laughable and it drew a shocked little huff that might have been aborted laughter. “Bog... We... We have never been _just_ friends. You're my _best_ friend.” He cut back quickly with a scowl on his face and a notable lump in his pants. “Y'know wut Ah mean... Are we datin? Er are we jus'... Foolin round?” 

Oh god it was so cute that he thought for a moment that she didn't already consider them dating. True they'd only been living together for... two weeks now? Three? It didn't matter though. They'd known each other for years and she couldn't see herself without him. There was only one thing to do for this. She'd fix him but good. 

“Boggart Stroud. Would you do me the honors of being my boyfriend?” 

She pressed her hand flat against him again, her fingers still under the elastic but her palm was out of his pants and she pressed herself into his back while leaning over to look at his face. It was awkward and she couldn't keep the sardonic grin off her face. He sputtered at her and leaned forward, twisting in her arms but she curled her fingers against his skin and it took his breath away. “Yes or no.” she purred as she nuzzled into his side. He frowned deeply at her, releasing her arm so he could lift his and get a better look at her. 

“Is this a _serious_ question?” 

She slipped to his side, though she didn't pull her hand out or up, just over to his hip as she wrapped him in her arms and he rested his arm on her shoulders. She grinned up at him now, mischief and warmth glowed on her face and she knew it. She took a moment to school her face before she responded.

“Serious as a heart attack.” 

He huffed at her and the serious face that broke into a blinding grin almost immediately. “Course Ah'll be yer boyfriend...” Fuck... They were _dating_!! That was _awesome_!!! And that lump in his pants wasn't going to get the _chance_ to go away if she had anything to say about it. “Then do you have any continued objections to me putting my hand down your pants?” She questioned as he bent to kiss her with an indulgent smile on his face. “Dun't think tha dishes'll git dun iffin ya keep it up...” She licked into his mouth and slipped her hand down around him making him gasp into the kiss. She whispered against his lips a challenge. “If you finish before I finish you we can take this to bed... So... Why don't you hurry up so we can get comfortable..?”

He growled at her challenge... _Growled_... and fuck that was hot. She ducked back behind him and nuzzled into his back again while playing with him. A chorus of quiet curses and moans issued forth from him as his hands flew through the few remaining dishes. With a particularly adept stroke when he'd finished she heard him take a sharp breath and he braced himself against the sink. “Mari.” He growled at her again and this time it was her turn to shiver. “Ah think ya should run...” There was so much lust drenching the words that she felt compelled to follow his instructions. She stopped her playful and teasing ministrations and made a dash for his room. He didn't run after her, he stalked after her, his long legs eating up the distance almost as quickly as her dashing had.

Giggling she fell back onto his bed as he stalked into the room, scuttling backwards as he crawled over top of her. Her hands reached for him but he kept his hips slightly away from her as he spoke. “Ah no... Mah turn...” He decended on her like a predator tucking into a meal. Devouring her lips while his hands roved over her skin leaving her feeling too hot, like the sun licking her skin. He nudged under her chin and put his lips to her throat and she couldn't help but roll her hips against him, her body desperate for satisfaction. He let out a pleased groan as she ran her one hand along his length while the other one danced along his scalp.

One of his hands skated over her, up her thigh to her hip, up her ribs to just under her tits, back down to her waist then delving under her shirt to touch her, skin to skin. When his hand slid back up her ribs she groaned and pressed herself towards his hand. He didn't need more permission because her gripped her reasonable but small breast then released it to run his palm over her nipple through the light bra she was wearing. Long fingers ran over skin then fabric, back down to the bottom edge of her bra, and up to repeat his grasping discovery of her body.

She couldn't help it, this was driving her nuts. He had her throat under his lips and she groaned in lust mixed with frustration. “Too much clothes!” She whined and sat up slightly, ripping her shirt off. He grinned and arched back over her, pressing a kiss to her collar bone and she shuddered under the touch of his rough lips. She was still sitting up and he tugged at her bra slightly. “Still too much or..?” He asked, teasingly but then gasped as she gripped him through his jogging pants. She whipped her bra off and he took a particularly brief moment to marvel at her topless... before he put his hands and lips back on her. She almost yelped when he slid his hand to her thigh and then up the inside of her leg. He looked up to her, the tension in her body must have tipped him off because he looked at her with questions in his eyes, clearly willing to stop.

She knew she had to be eight shades of red but she split her legs for him and reached out to kiss him again. His hand slid home and she squealed encouragingly into his mouth. Timid fingers became quickly bold as they ran over her body over her leggings. Still though... there was too much fabric. Far too much. She broke their lips apart and heard how demanding her voice was immediately. “Take your shirt off... Pants too...” when he pulled back from her she fell on her back, grabbed the waist band of her pants and nearly ripped the leggings pulling them off of herself. He pulled his shirt off without hesitation but the pants came off of him more slowly. She all but drug him back into the bed, curling into him and over top of him while his hands ran over her skin. 

Honestly Marianne didn't really think about it when she begged him to pull his boxers down so she could play with him. And she _really_ wasn't thinking much when she threw her leg over him. All she was really thinking about was how much more of him she needed on her skin. She was thinking about how amazing it was when he slid his finger tips under the edges of her panties. She was thinking about how good his lips tasted and how she knew exactly where she needed pressure against her. What she **_really_** wasn't thinking about was what would happen when she gave into the desire to feel more and more of him against her.

“God Bog... I wanna feel you...” Lust and worry twisted in his face as she sat on his naked lap, his cock so close to her, just the satin and cotton of her panties between her and his flesh. “Is... 'at a gud idea?” His concern was so touching but she really didn't have any caution left to spare. “C'mon. I just... Please?” There was desperation in her voice because she just... she _needed_ to feel him against her skin, to feel his warmth against her, to feel what he'd feel like against her soaked skin. She noted his caution but he was accepting. 

Her panties flew off of her and she rolled right back on top of him. She shuddered against him and immediately it wasn't enough. It couldn't ever be enough! She rubbed herself against him, his hands firmly on her hips, fingers twitching, eyes wide as he watched her grind against him, both of them totally naked. “Fuk... Mari...” He groaned and she whined softly, rocking her hips unconsciously to try and slip him inside her. He gave a teeth grit groan as he tried very... very... _very_ hard not to slip into her. “Bog... Bog!” She hissed as she tried to angle him, this time intentionally, it was so much not enough!

“Mari...” He was probably going to warn her not to do something but she desperately wanted to do something. “Can... I just want it in me... Just a bit... Please... Fuck I need it Bog...” Hearing her wanton voice made him shiver and moan again, his feet shifting anxiously against the bedding as he fought trying to tip his own hips. “Mari...” He had caution laced tightly with the lust in his voice. “S'not a gud idea...” She whined another please at him, rocking her hips again. She was answered with a shake of his head and he angled himself at her. She slid onto him and her breath caught. He froze dead still beneath her.

It wasn't so much painful but the pinching sensation stopped her dead still. Her fingers curled in the pillow on either side of his head and he rubbed his hands over her sides. “Mari... Ya don't... Ya should... Are ya hurtin?” Even as he was desperately, and clearly trying not to thrust into her he was trying to comfort or offer her an out. “No... I'm fine I just...” She pushed her hips a bit further onto him and gasped again. The feeling overwhelming and very close to painful. He grit his teeth hard enough she heard them grind. “I'm ok... I just... Fuck... I want more... but... Too much...” She couldn't really string coherent words together. She slid down him slowly until she was resting on his hips, flush to him, panting. He gave another shiver. “Mari. Iffin ya dunt wanna... Y'shud git offa me...” her eyes slowly focused on him below her and she rested her heaving chest on his, pressing her lips to his to quiet him. 

It was only now that she realized that this, having him balls deep in her, was the goal she'd been working towards the second she'd reached into his pants. And now... She just desperately wanted him to fuck her. Oh god! She did! She _desperately_ wanted him to pound into her and she wanted his hands on her and of god why wasn't he fucking her? “Bog! Bog fuck me!” She hissed, her voice almost angry that he wasn't currently pumping into her. “Mari... Are yeh... Sure?” He spoke between pants and she could feel him twitching inside her. “Fuck it... fuck me! Bog!” she lifted up off of him to accentuate her point and pressed back and down onto him.

As he began thrusting into her, curling against her so he could put his mouth on her, hands grasping and guiding her body time became a foreign concept. Her voice raised hungrily as her hips rolled over his, his was low, quiet but nearly constant. The tension in her body wound to a very... very fine point and she rolled her hips in a way that made that point sharpen to just this side of painful. With a gasp rolling shudders ran through her body, pleasant and overwhelming. She let out a small chirp of a moan only for it to follow with wet, gasping groans, her whole body on fire with the feeling. Bog didnt' stop right away, thrusting into her three or four times before his slowing thrusts came to a shuddering halt, panic once again on his face. He pulled on her but didn't let her sit back down. “Mari, M'close...” Her tongue wet her lips with a lopsided, distant grin. “Whut?” He gripped her sides harder, not hurting but very insistent as pleasure was still rippling through her body, making her clench around him.

He made a despondent noise as she pushed back down over him and he curled up into her. He tried to stop his hips but he rolled into her again a few times and she rocked her hips at him. “ **Mari!** ” He demanded and she smirked lustily at him. “Do it! Bog!” She breathed the words at him and rocked her hips again. He grabbed her ass while she held his lips to hers, slamming her over him a few times before he threw his head back and rocked forward a bit. There was a very gentle, guttural noise out of him as he winced and she could feel him shaking below her.

Still panting and slightly wincing he looked up at her. “M'not wearin a condom...” She grinned and kissed his nose. “Noticed that did ya?” He winced and shuddered below her, her grin fading slightly as she pet him and nodded to her shoulder. “I've got the sub-dermal pill thing. Don't worry about me getting prego.” She kissed his forehead and he relaxed with a sigh that sounded like it came from his toes. “Coulda used ta kno'at a'for we started...” She giggled softly and he glared at her but there was concern in his eyes rather than annoyance or anger. “Yea sorry... Didn't _really_ plan that out...” He rolled his eyes at her and she laid down on his chest, letting her cheek rest on his collar as he wrapped her in his arms.

“Thought ya said y'were a virgin...” There wasn't any condemnation in his voice and she was feeling sleepy. She shifted off to his side and he followed her, curling into her. “I was... Why?” He tilted his head thoughtfully before yawning himself. “Wull... if yer on birth control...” She giggled again and opened her eyes, leaning up to look down on him while he frowned in confusion. “Bog... you... Are such a dork.” She laughed shaking her head. “I've been on birth control since I was fifteen.” He blinked up at her. “Wh... Why?” She laughed roundly at that and shook her head. “Worst pillow talk ever... but... I have terrible periods. My first one was three weeks... I only got a week off then my second one was just over two weeks. By the time I was fourteen my mom had enough and put me on long term birth control in hopes that it would calm that shit. Best part was it calmed that shit right the hell down to nothing. I've kept up on them ever since. Just got a new one before I started college.” He wrinkled his long nose but then just shook his head. “Wull then... I su'pose...” He floundered for something to follow that explanation but came up short in the face of her grin.

She shrugged through her grin. “It's not like it's a huge deal honestly. Just one less thing to worry about... well... Two less things. Now... Can we just.. enjoy a nap while we cuddle?” He leaned over and kissed her, long and slow, pulling her body flush with his. When their lips parted she growled playfully at him. “That's the right way to get me wound up again...” He scoffed against her lips and kissed her quickly. “Yer jus' gonna have ta wait...” He rolled his shoulder onto her and used her as a pillow, dragging the blanket over them and listening to the sound of her giggling as she slowly let sleep take her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil cackling*
> 
> So much of this is based off my hubs and I's first time... XD
> 
> My personal head canon is that everything... and I mean everything... is harder on Marianne than Dawn but Marianne is used to it and Dawn isn't... I know we don't see her at all in this story but I have a very real, solid grasp of how Dawn reacts to things like her period in this AU. The period thing... That was actually my sister's first few periods. 3 on, 1 off then 2 on 2 off for like... six months. Then suddenly it was a normal people period. Mom had been super close to being like "NOPE! BIRTH CONTROL HERE WE COME!" Cus my sis is a grumpy creature at the best of times...
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it, I know there's not any of my usual angst in this chapter but hey... Girl can't live on angst alone! >.> Right? 
> 
> TATA ALL! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus points if you know the song she sings... And it's -really- not a lullaby.
> 
> I'm just doing my usual, probably post one per day, this is probably gonna have 5 or 6 chapters... not currently sure, gotta get it all parsed out and edited.


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